A  HISTORY  OF 
ENGLISH  BALLADRY 

And  Other  Studies 

By   FRANK   EGBERT  PRYANT 
Late  Associate  Professor  of  English  in  the  University 
of  Kansas 

CONTENTS 

A  HISTORY  OF  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 
LESSING'S  LAOCOON 

THE  RELATION  OF  THE  STANDARD  LAN- 
GUAGE TO  THE  POPULATION  OF  LON- 
DON 

THE  THRYMSWITHA 

ON  THE  CONSERVATISM   OF  LANGUAGE 

IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY 
BEOWULF,  62 

DID  BOCCACCIO  SUGGEST  THE  CHARACTER 
OF  CHAUCER'S  KNIGHT? 

THE  BOLD  PRISONER 

RESEARCHES  IN  EXPERIMENTAL  PHON- 
>;  ETICS 

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A  HISTORY  OF 
ENGLISH  BALLAD R^ 

and  Other  Studies 


FRANK  EGBERT  BRYANT 

Late  Associate  Professor  of  English  in  the 
University  of  Kansas 


Boston 
The  Four  Seas  Company 
1919 


Copyright,  1913,  by 
Richard  G.  Badger 


The  Four  Seas  Press 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 

I.     A  HISTORY  OF  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


I         Questions  of  Definition   19 

U        English  Balladry  to  the  End  of  the  Fourteenth 

Century   39 

III  Ballad  of  Outlawry   73 

IV  Fifteenth  Century   106 

V  Preceding  Decade  and  Elizabeth's  Reign   146 

VI  Elizabeth's  Reign  (Continued)   186 

II.    LESSING'S  LAOCOON 

I  Lessing's  Laocoon   223 

II  Homer's  Descriptions   231 

III  Lessing's  Psychology  of  Vision   241 

IV  Lessing's    "Chain    of    Conclusions"    and  the 

Missing  Principle   252 

V  Boundaries  of  Description  as  a  Type  of  Discourse  260 

VI  The  Nature  of  Mental  Imagery   270 

VII  Limitations  and  Possibilities  of  Description  Due 

to  Its  Instrument  of  Expression   280 

VIII  Varieties  of  Description   289 

IX  Ideals  and  Methods  of  Description   298 

Appendix  A — I.    Bibliographical  Notes   317 

Appendix  A — II.    Psychological  Basis   329 

Appendix  A — III.     Rhetoric   331 

Appendix  B — Experimental  Material   335 

Appendix  C — Illustrative  Material   343 

III.     OTHER  STUDIES 

The  Relation  of  the  Standard  Language  to  the 

Population  of  London   389 

The  Thrymskwitha   399 

On  the  Conservatism  of  Language  in  a  New 

Country   410 

Beowulf,  62   425 

Beowulf,  62,  Again   427 

Did  Boccaccio  Suggest  the  Character  of  Chaucer's 

Knight?    432 

The  Bold  Prisoner   435 

Researches  in  Experimental  Phonetics   438 


At  the  time  of  my  husband's  death  there  were  among 
his  writings  some  uncompleted  studies.  The  most 
important  among  these  was  "Some  Chapters  Toward  a 
History  of  English  Balladry,"  of  which  six  chapters 
had  been  written.  They  had  not  received  the  author's 
final  revision,  and  are,  I  realize,  in  no  sense  representa- 
tive of  his  finished  work. 

Many  of  the  original  sources  of  this  material  are 
wholly  inaccessible  to  me,  but  I  gladly  assume  all 
responsibility  in  printing  these  chapters,  feeling  that 
in  the  larger  interest  of  scholarship  they  should  be 
preserved  in  permanent  form. 

Worthy  scholarly  attainments  are  often  less  than 
final,  and  those  most  nearly  complete  are  likely  to  rest 
upon  the  serious  efforts  of  many  seekers  after  truth. 
Therefore  it  seems  but  just  to  those  interested  in  this 
field  of  study  that  I  should  make  accessible  this  contri- 
bution to  the  history  of  balladry. 


DORA  RENN  BRYANT 


INTRODUCTION 


IN  the  death  of  Professor  Bryant  was  a  tragedy 
such  as  has  not  been  written,  the  shadow  of 
which  will  not  soon  pass ;  but  a  tragedy  in  which 
there  is  triumph  also.  In  the  memory  of  it  there 
must  be  deep  pain,  but  in  the  memory  of  him  a  pride 
no  less  deep.  For  this  man  had  already,  almost  with- 
out his  own  knowledge,  and  entirely  without  anticipa- 
tion on  his  part,  made  his  mark;  before  his  work  was 
more  than  fairly  begun,  his  name  was  known  to 
linguistic  scholars  almost  everywhere.  All  who  were 
near  him  knew  of  his  quality  and  of  his  promise,  but 
not  all  knew  what  there  had  been  of  actual  perform- 
ance, and  that  real  accomplishment  had  proved  in  him 
a  mind  of  rare  order  and  had  made  certain  that  time, 
if  granted,  must  bring  to  him  rare  distinction.  It  is 
this  which  students,  associates,  friends,  should  know; 
and  it  is  of  this  that  they  may  find  satisfaction  in 
speaking. 

Few  words  are  needed  for  the  story  of  life  and  deed. 
Frank  Egbert  Bryant  was  born  at  Grand  Rapids, 
Michigan,  March  15,  1877 ;  and  he  seems  to  have  come 
by  inheritance  into  a  cultivated  taste  and  a  love  for 
exact  science  that  are  not  always  found  together ;  these 
fostered  by  the  training  and  companionship  of  his 
father,  Mr.  John  Bryant,  student  and  naturalist,  whose 
collecting  Professor  Bryant  loved  to  share  in  as  a 
favorite  recreation.  Indeed  his  first  ambition  was 
toward  a  purely  scientific  career;  but  the  English 
teacher  of  his  high-school  days,  Mrs.  Cornelia  S.  Hulst, 
turned  his  mind  toward  literature,  and  helped  to  shape 


5 


6 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  ideals  toward  which  he  soon  came  to  direct  all  his 
energy,  and  in  devotion  to  which  he  soon  received  the 
further  aid  and  inspiration  of  Professor  F.  N.  Scott. 
These  two,  guides,  teachers,  and  always  among  the 
nearest  of  his  friends,  from  the  very  first  recognized 
his  capacity  and  foretold  his  accomplishment.  He  was 
graduated  from  the  Grand  Rapids  high  school  in  1895, 
and  from  the  University  of  Michigan  in  1899,  receiv- 
ing the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Letters,  a  diploma  for 
special  work,  and  a  teacher's  certificate.  After  his 
graduation  he  taught  English  one  year  in  the  Ann 
Arbor  high  school,  then  reentered  the  University  and 
received  a  Master's  degree  in  1901.  During  the 
academic  year  1901-2  he  held  a  fellowship  in  Yale,  and 
was  reappointed  for  the  following  year;  but  declined 
reappointment  to  accept  election  to  an  assistant  pro- 
fessorship of  English  at  the  University  of  Kansas. 
Since  that  time  he  has  twice  obtained  leave  of  absence 
for  special  research,  once  for  the  year  1905-6  and  once 
for  the  half-year  ending  in  January,  1909.  This  time 
was  spent  at  Harvard  ;  the  first  period  as  holder  of  the 
Austin  scholarship  for  teachers.  The  summer  of  1905 
was  spent  in  foreign  travel  and  in  study  at  Oxford; 
that  of  1908  in  the  library  of  the  British  Museum.  In 
January,  1909,  he  was  elected  to  membership  in  the 
recently  organized  chapter  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa 
society  at  the  University  of  Michigan.  His  doctorate 
thesis  on  "Some  Chapters  toward  a  History  of  English 
Balladry"  was  completed  and  submitted  in  May  of 
1910 ;  in  June  he  passed  his  examinations  with  distinc- 
tion; and  on  June  29,  1910,  Harvard  University  made 
him  a  Doctor  of  Philosophy.  In  September  of  1910 
he  became  Associate  Professor  of  English  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Kansas.    His  last  published  work  was  a 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


7 


reprinting  -with  notes  of  an  old  Broadside,  "The  Bold 
Prisoner,"  in  the  October  number  of  Modem  Language 
Notes.  This  is  a  record  of  labor  almost  uninterrupted 
until  the  fatal  illness;  all  addressed  to  a  definite  end, 
and  every  part  in  it  bringing  desired  success  and 
deserved  and  high  honor. 

On  September  13,  1910,  he  and  Miss  Dora  Renn  were 
married  in  Chicago.  Immediately  after  his  return  to 
Lawrence  he  was  stricken  with  typhoid  fever,  and  died 
on  October  20. 

The  record  of  his  publications  is  not  long,  because 
he  had  not  come  to  the  time  when  publication  was 
more  than  an  incident;  he  had  made  progress  in  im- 
portant work,  but  had  printed  only  short  papers  and 
notes  by  the  way.  The  significant  thing  is  that  almost 
every  one  of  these  attracted  instant  attention.  An 
earlier  instance  of  skill  and  insight  was  an  extended 
review  in  the  Journal  of  Germanic  Philology  in  1901, 
of  an  elaborate  work  by  a  distinguished  student  of 
phonetics,  showing  many  elementary  errors  in  method 
so  clearly  that  his  statements  seem  to  have  been  ac- 
cepted without  question  even  by  the  author  criticised. 
A  different  sort  of  reception  came  to  a  short  article  of 
his  in  Modern  Language  Notes  of  May,  1904,  relating 
to  an  apparent  erasure  that  he  had  found  in  an  obscure 
and  much  discussed  line  of  "Beowulf."  A  self-con- 
fident "Beowulf"  scholar  made  haste  into  print  to  say, 
in  substance,  that  there  was  no  erasure  at  the  specified 
place,  or  if  otherwise,  it  was  merely  the  erasure  of  a 
blot  of  ink.  Not  satisfied  with  this  reasoning,  Professor 
Bryant  examined  the  original  manuscript  with  wit- 
nesses who  corroborated  his  original  statement  that 
there  were  traces  of  letters  in  the  place  specified,  be- 
neath the  later  writing.    He  published  another  short 


8 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


note  to  that  effect,  and  the  fact,  with  his  name,  is  now 
incorporated  in  the  standard  edition  of  "Beowulf." 

In  marked  contrast  with  the  grudging  attitude  of 
one  man  in  this  instance  was  that  of  a  great  number  of 
noted  scholars  toward  Professor  Bryant's  most  consid- 
erable published  work.  During  the  years  of  1903-4  he 
planned  to  prepare,  besides  a  College  Literature  Note 
Book  (1903),  a  text  in  descriptive  writing  for  the  use 
of  college  classes.  In  the  course  of  this  work  he 
chanced  to  discover  that  some  of  the  statements  in 
Lessing's  "Lacoon"  relating  to  description,  and  be- 
cause they  are  Lessing's,  reverently  accepted  for  a 
hundred  and  fifty  years,  are  in  direct  conflict  with  the 
facts  of  experience  as  recognized  in  modern  psychology. 
Out  of  this  discovery  and  the  wise  advice  of  Professor 
Scott  grew  a  monograph  entitled  "On  the  Limits  of 
Descriptive  Writing,  apropos  of  Lessing's  'Laocoon'," 
published  at  the  University  of  Michigan  in  1906.  Among 
the  interesting  letters  following  this  publication  was  one 
from  Professor  F.  E.  Schelling,  who  writes :  "I  find  your 
work  of  great  interest  and  great  value,  and  congratu- 
late you  upon  it. ' '  There  was  also  a  card  of  apprecia- 
tion from  Professor  P.  J.  Furnivall.  A  letter  from  Pro- 
fessor F.  W.  Kelsey  says  in  part:  "The  subject  is  one 
in  which  I  am  much  interested,  and  I  find  your  treat- 
ment characterized  by  independence,  good  method  and 
breadth  of  view.  I  shall  have  occasion  to  make  refer- 
ence to  the  paper  in  a  course  of  lectures  later."  This 
work  was  immediately  reviewed  with  high  approval  by 
Professor  Kuno  Francke  in  the  Nation  of  May  3,  1906 ; 
and  then  a  year  later,  to  Professor  Bryant 's  surprise,  it 
was  made  the  subject  of  an  equally  commendatory  re- 
view of  nine  columns  in  the  Deutsche  Literaturzeitung 
of  June  22, 1907,  by  Dr.  Hugo  Spitzer,  who  stated  further 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


9 


in  a  personal  letter  to  Professor  Bryant  that  he  was 
preparing  another  article  on  the  same  subject  at  the 
request  of  Dr.  Herman  Ebbinghaus  for  another  Ger- 
man periodical,  Zeitschrift  fiir  Psychologie  und  Phys- 
iologie  der  Sinnesorgane.  This  article  appeared  in 
June  of  1908.  It  states  briefly  the  cardinal  points  of 
Professor  Bryant's  study,  and  approves  the  general 
service  he  has  rendered  to  criticism,  and  its  results,  as 
equally  interesting  psychologically  and  esthetically. 

To  have  a  disproof  of  any  thesis  of  Lessing's  ac- 
cepted and  promulgated  by  Lessing's  own  countrymen 
may  well  be  regarded  as  no  small  triumph  even  for  a 
much  older  man.  Dr.  Francke  said  of  this  work  of 
Professor  Bryant's:  "Not  since  Herder  in  his 
VKritische  Walder'  attacked  the  validity  of  the  con- 
clusions as  to  the  relations  between  poetry  and  art 
reached  in  Lessing's  Laocoon,'  has  there  appeared  a 
more  trenchant  or  original  criticism  of  Lessing's 
aesthetic  principles  than  that  contained  in  Professor 
Bryant 's  article.  This  treatise  of  his  is  remarkable  not 
so  much  for  learning — although  the  author's  reading 
is  wide  and  varied — as  for  the  fresh  and  unbiased  man- 
ner in  which  he  approaches  subjects  that  to  the  great 
majority  of  scholars  have  seemed  to  be  settled  once  for 
all.  .  .  .  Professor  Bryant's  treatise  will  be  a 
most  welcome  help  to  college  teachers  who  interpret 
and  discuss  Lessing's  ' Laocoon'  in  the  class-room." 
Following  this  was  a  letter  from  Professor  Scott: 
"You  are  the  luckiest  man  alive,  and  I  hope  you  realize 
what  it  would  mean  to  have  Professor  Francke  review 
your  thesis. 

'He  can  requite  thee;  for  he  knows  the  charms 
That  can  call  fame  on  such  gentle  acts  as  these, 
And  he  can  spread  thy  name  o'er  land  and  seas.' 


10 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Many  good  words  have  come  to  me  about  the  pamphlet 
from  my  colleagues.  A  member  of  the  faculty  who  has 
just  left  the  office  expressed  his  wonder  that  you  have 
not  presented  the  paper  as  a  doctoral  thesis. "  Later 
Professor  Scott  wrote :  "lam  sorry  the  first  edition  of 
your  monograph  is  exhausted ;  you  certainly  are  a  suc- 
cessful author.  It  is  a  pity  that  some  way  cannot  be 
devised  of  getting  out  a  second  edition,  revised,  cor- 
rected, and  considerably  augmented.  I  do  not  believe 
that  your  thesis  will  be  received  with  such  wild  ac- 
claim, though  I  expect  great  things  from  it."  This 
high  praise  was  echoed  in  letters  received  from  Eng- 
land and  Germany  as  well  as  from  all  parts  of  this 
country. 

Of  still  another  type  was  the  compliment  paid  to 
another  little  study  that  may  be  classed  as  purely  lit- 
erary; a  translation  of  one  of  the  Norse  Eddie  poems 
entitled  "  Thrymskwitha,  or  the  Lay  of  Thrym,"  first 
published  in  Poet  Lore  in  October,  1902,  and  revised 
and  privately  reprinted  three  years  later.  The  task 
of  translation  was  made  peculiarly  difficult  by  the  ef- 
fort to  reproduce  something  of  the  form  and  spirit  of 
the  original  as  well  as  its  substance  ;  and  again  the  work 
brought  immediate  and  favorable  recognition  because 
of  its  literary  quality  as  well  as  the  adequacy  of  the 
rendering. 

Among  the  letters  received  after  the  publication  of 
this  translation  was  one  from  Professor  E.  H.  Meusel  of 
Smith  College,  who  said:  "I  have  read  your  translation 
with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  and  congratulate  you  on 
the  excellence  of  it  and  the  successful  manner  in  which 
you  have  preserved  the  form  and  spirit  of  the  original. 
Let  us  have  more. "  Mrs.  Cornelia  S.  Hulst  wrote  :  "I 
was  delighted  with  your  translation  of  Thrym.  The 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


11 


meter  is  perfectly  charming  and  the  thing  is  fresh  and 
pleasing  throughout.  I  wonder  that  you  could  give  it 
the  consistent  style  that  it  undoubtedly  has,  positively 
a  new  flavor.  I  wonder  if  you  couldn't  do  that  for, 
say,  the  descent  of  Odin  to  Vala  to  question  her  about 
Balder?  That  has  never  been  anywhere  near  ade- 
quately done."  Professor  Gummere  wrote:  "The 
movement  of  your  verse  is  distinctly  good;  and  of 
course  I  am  always  glad  to  greet  an  advocate  of  trans- 
lation in  the  original  meters. "  Mrs.  Gertrude  Black- 
welder  wrote:  "It  seems  to  me  you  have  preserved 
the  literalness  of  the  meaning,  while  at  the  same  time 
giving  the  poem  a  verse  form  which  is  truly  Norse." 

One  of  the  most  appreciative  letters  was  from  a 
]  scholar  who  advised  Professor  Bryant  to  continue  with 
translations  of  other  poems  from  the  Edda,  and  indeed 
led  him  to  think  seriously  of  doing  so  at  some  future 
time.  Judge  of  the  new  surprise  that  awaited  him  a 
year  later  when  this  same  man  published  a  translation 
of  the  same  poem,  in  the  same  meter  and  spirit,  with 
occasional  duplication  of  lines  or  phrases  in  Professor 
Bryant's  version,  without  making  any  reference  what- 
ever to  the  fact  that  he  had  read  and  admired  the 
earlier  version,  and  without  offering  any  explanation 
in  the  correspondence  that  followed,  even  though  a 
satisfactory  explanation  might  easily  be  conceived. 
One  may  speak  of  this  action  as  a  compliment  ;  and 
such  compliments  are  not  infrequent  among  the  ad- 
ventures of  literary  life. 

But  the  work  to  which  Professor  Bryant  looked 
forward  as  the  worthy  labor  of  years  was  the  prosecu- 
tion of  his  studies  in  the  English  ballad,  the  work,  a 
part  of  which  was  accepted  for  his  doctorate  thesis 
and  of  which  much  additional  material  was  taking 


12 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


form.  How  he  himself  regarded  it  is  shown  in  these 
words  from  the  preface  to  his  thesis:  " English  Bal- 
ladry is  a  large  subject,  one  that  it  is  necessary  to 
grow  into,  and  it  is  only  .  .  .  after  several  years  of 
work  that  I  am  beginning  to  feel  at  home  in  handling 
the  material  ...  I  have  found  it  increasingly 
necessary  to  go  more  afield  in  order  to  get  the  proper 
perspective.  I  started  out  modestly  enough  to  write 
up  the  predecessors  of  Percy,  confining  myself  to  the 
eighteenth  century,  but  before  I  could  begin  writing  it 
became  clear  that  I  must  go  farther  back,  and  not 
being  .  .  .  content  with  half -knowledge  I  have  been 
going  on  and  on  toward  the  beginning  of  things." 

This  work,  completely  historical,  and  dealing  chiefly 
with  the  sources  and  the  psychology  of  the  material, 
was  sufficient  to  test  his  powers  to  the  full,  affording 
ample  scope  for  the  exercise  of  all  his  critical  taste 
and  skill  and  all  his  knowledge  of  linguistics,  which 
included  an  extraordinarily  broad  and  accurate  scholar- 
ship in  phonetics.  This  last  named  field  of  interest 
should  have  special  attention,  not  because  it  is  a  thing 
to  be  valued  above  others,  in  taking  the  measure  of  a 
man,  but  because  they  who  possess  it  are  so  few.  This 
sort  of  scholarship  is  comparatively  recent ;  its  inves- 
tigations are  little  more  than  begun;  the  minds  com- 
petent to  deal  with  it  must  be  of  an  order  which  is 
familiarly  associated  with  some  of  the  greatest  names 
in  science.  In  this  field,  likewise,  Professor  Bryant 
might  have  won  renown ;  and  of  the  best  workers  in  it, 
those  who  knew  him  had  already  expressed  their  con- 
fidence in  him.  In  this  field  of  his,  perhaps,  more 
than  in  any  other  must  large  things  depend  upon  in- 
finite accuracy  in  the  study  of  things  infinitely  small; 
and  the  teacher  who  first  influenced  him  tc  take  his 


ENGLISH  BALLADEY 


13 


scientific  bent  into  the  study  of  literature  defined  his 
fitness  well :  ' :  How  sensitive  he  was,  how  he  penetrated 
into  a  thing,  how  he  took  it  in  from  its  minutest  points 
to  the  big  round  of  its  circumference!  ...  I  can 
imagine  how  he  piloted  his  students  into  the  realms  of 
gold,  and  how  his  pure  and  unworldly  spirit  taught 
them  truths  it  is  hard  for  the  natural  man  of  earth  to 
apprehend.  He  had  the  head  of  a  sage  and  the  heart 
of  a  child."  In  another  letter  she  said:  "In  all  my 
experiences  of  character  I  have  never  met  the  like  of 
Frank  Bryant's  in  simplicity,  frankness  and  daring; 
and  in  all  of  this  he  was  a  child  and  would  never 
have  been  anything  else.  He  did  not  know  how  much 
courage  he  had,  that  would  be  called  moral  courage. 
He  was  the  man  who  had  never  known  fear,  and  this 
he  showed  when  he  was  attacking  the  theories  of 
celebrities  alive  and  dead.  What  penetration  he  had, 
and  how  unhampered  he  was  with  the  learning  he  had ! 
What  an  unspoiled  heart  he  was !  How  free  from 
pedantry!  and  he  was  the  most  promising  scholar  I 
ever  saw  in  his  subject,  in  the  way  of  tests  and  render- 
ings of  the  old  Saxon  and  Norse,  in  rhetorical  prin- 
ciples and  in  interpretation  and  criticism." 

Professor  George  Hempl  of  Stanford  University  said 
in  a  letter:  "He  was  the  brightest,  most  original  and 
most  promising  student  I  ever  had." 

But  publicity  for  this  part  of  his  work,  apart  from 
his  teaching,  was  in  the  future;  it  was  to  the  "History 
of  English  Balladry"  that  he  proposed  to  give  the  best 
of  his  effort,  for  whatever  time  might  be  necessary  to 
round  out  the  study  of  the  period  undertaken.  The 
publication  of  what  he  has  left  in  manuscript  will  do 
him  honor;  but  as  a  critic  of  literature  and  literary 
theories  his  reputation  is  already  made.    When  his 


14 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


monograph  on  the  "Laocoon"  was  published,  his 
friend,  Professor  W.  C.  Abbott,  wrote  him  immediately, 
''I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  made  you  famous  in  a 
critical  way."  In  a  few  months  afterward  this 
prophecy  had  gone  far  toward  fulfillment;  and  there 
can  be  no  question  that  this  little  booklet  will  always 
hold  a  place  of  repute  in  the  history  of  criticism,  and 
will  insure  that  the  name  of  its  author  will  not  be 
forgotten. 

E.  M.  HOPKINS 


I 

A  History  of 
English  Balladry 


PREFACE 


HE  following  chapters  form  the  beginning  of 


a  history  of  English  Balladry.    They  are  the 


JL_  beginning  in  more  than  one  sense;  for  though 
I  have  been  long  at  work  and  have  gone  through 
practically  all  the  material  down  to  Scott's  Min- 
strelsy, the  part  actually  treated  in  the  succeeding 
pages  extends  no  farther  than  through  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth,  and  even  these  chapters  I  consider  in 
no  sense  final.  English  Balladry  is  a  large  subject — 
one  that  it  is  necessary  to  grow  into,  and  it  is  only  now 
after  several  years  of  work  that  I  am  beginning  to 
feel  at  home  in  handling  the  material.  What  I  have 
written,  therefore,  has  been  all  along  largely  tentative. 
I  have  ever  been  on  the  lookout  for  new  material  to 
modify  my  views,  and  very  often  I  have  found  it.  Then, 
too,  I  have  found  it  increasingly  necessary  to  go  more 
afield  in  order  to  get  the  proper  perspective.  I  started 
out  modestly  enough  to  write  up  the  predecessors  of 
Percy,  confining  myself  to  the  eighteenth  century,  but 
before  I  could  begin  writing  it  became  clear  I  must 
go  farther  back,  and  not  being  of  the  sort  that  is  con- 
tent with  half-knowledge,  I  have  been  going  on  and 
on  toward  the  beginning  of  things. 

The  paging  by  individual  chapters  shows  how  I  left 
myself  a  chance  to  recast  largely.  The  opportunity 
has  been  often  improved.  Many  a  compressed  or  ex- 
panded page  marks  the  place  of  a  discarded  or  added 
notion,  and  sometimes  a  later  footnote  has  had  to  be 
written  to  correct  some  erroneous  impression  in  the 
text.    I  am  still  in  a  tentative  attitude.    There  are 


17 


18 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


many  things  I  have  had  to  leave  undecided,  and  too 
many  others  that  I  have  had  to  pass  over  too  lightly  to 
leave  perfect  content  in  my  soul.  Still,  perfection  is  a 
far  goal,  and  the  present  form  of  the  material  is  as 
good  as  I  can  make  it  at  just  the  present  time.  I  there- 
fore rather  jealously  offer  it  for  inspection.  I  wish  I 
had  carried  the  treatment  as  far  as  the  Percy  Folio, 
and  perhaps  during  the  year  I  shall  be  able  to  do  so, 
but  there  are  so  many  other  necessary  labors  besides 
ballad  research  that  I  am  not  at  all  certain.  I  hope  I 
have  been  accurate,  but  I  am  not  absolutely  sure  of  the 
Letter  in  all  my  quotations.  Putting  the  finishing 
touches  on  at  a  place  where,  though  the  library  is  good 
it  is  entirely  inadequate  to  so  specialized  a  field,  I  can 
hardly  have  escaped  errors,  but  I  hope  I  have  made  no 
serious  mistakes. 

I  have  made  no  acknowledgment  of  indebtedness, 
mainly  because  I  am  now  sending  this  manuscript  to 
the  one  to  whom  I  am  under  the  greatest  obligation 
both  for  the  original  suggestion  and  for  later  help.  I 
am  truly  thankful,  and  in  due  time  I  shall  be  glad  to 
make  more  open  acknowledgment  to  him  and  to 
others. 


A  HISTORY  OF 
ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


CHAPTER  I 

Questions  of  Definition 

BEFORE  we  take  up  the  main  work  of  this 
thesis,  it  is  necessary  to  define,  at  least 
roughly,  the  limits  of  our  field.  Naturally  our 
main  interest  all  along  will  be  centered  in  ballads 
of  the  types  found  in  Professor  Child's  great 
collection.1  They  are  the  ballads  par  excellence  and 
they  occupy  a  place  by  themselves.  Nevertheless,  they 
cannot  well  be  considered  alone  in  any  broad  historical 
treatment.  Their  selection  owes  too  much  to  Mr.  Child 
himself.  The  word  "ballad"  is  one  of  the  loosest 
terms  in  literary  nomenclature.  It  has  been  used  to 
designate  several  distinct  genera  of  poetry,  and  almost 
at  no  time  since  its  introduction  into  English  can  it  be 
said  to  have  had  any  very  precise  meaning.  It  is  not 
my  purpose  to  try  to  fix  meanings  now,  and  yet  I  feel 
it  is  requisite  to  a  clear  understanding  of  the  subject 
that  we  should  have  in  mind  what  the  word  " ballad" 
has  connoted  and  signified  at  various  times  in  the  past. 
I  shall  therefore  take  the  liberty  to  present  here  some 
of  the  more  important  shifts  of  meaning,  trusting  that 

1 — Francis  James  Child,  The  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Bal- 
lads, ten  parts,  two  to  a  volume,  1882-98.  The  final  part  con- 
taining indexes  and  other  apparatus  of  investigation,  edited  by 
Professor  G.  L.  Kittredge,  Boston,  New  York,  and  London. 


19 


20 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


however  superficial  must  necessarily  be  my  treatment, 
I  shall  at  least  bring  out  clearly  the  essentials. 

Even  in  the  Old  French,  from  which  language  we 
borrowed  the  term  in  the  14th  century,1  ballads  were 
not  all  of  precisely  the  same  type.  There  were  differ- 
ences not  only  in  the  number  of  lines  to  the  stanza,  but 
likewise  in  the  verse  form  and  in  the  use  of  ' '  L  'envoi. '  '2 
Still  the  type  was  fairly  definite :  it  was  always  a  short 
poem  of  three  stanzas  with  the  same  rimes  and  the 
same  last  line  in  each.  Generally  there  followed  an 
e<nvo%  to  complete  it.3  It  is  to  be  emphasized  that  it 
was  an  intricate  art  form  as  hard  to  compose  as  the 
Italian  sonnet.  This  type  is  well  represented  by 
Chaucer,4  who  has  given  us  several  interesting  speci- 
mens. He  used  both  seven-  and  eight-line  stanzas,  the 
former  of  the  rime-royal  scheme,  the  latter  rimed 
ababbcbC.    He  has  unified  his  poem  metrically  by  hav- 


1 —  Skeat,  Etymological  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language, 
1882,  3d  ed.,  1898.  M.  E.  balade,  F.  ballade,  of  which  Brachet 
says  that  it  came,  in  the  14th  century,  from  the  Provencal  ballada. 
Ballada  seems  to  have  meant  a  dancing  song  and  is  clearly  derived 
from  Low  Latin  (and  Italian)  ballare,  to  dance.  In  some  authors 
the  form  ballat,  or  ballet  occurs:  in  this  case  the  word  follows  the 
Italian  spelling  ballatas,  a  dancing  song,  from  Ital.  ballare,  to 
dance.  » 

2—  J.  Schipper,  Englische  Metrik,  Vol.  2,  p.  927  f. 

3 —  In  "Les  Cent  Ballades"  (Poeme  du  XIV  e  Siecle  compose 
par  Jean  le  Seneschal,  etc.  Paris,  1905.  Societe  des  Anciens 
Textes  Francais).  There  are  seven  different  types  of  ballad  form, 
besides  a  few  exceptions.  Ballads  in  O.  French  had  more  variety 
of  verse  form  than  Schipper  states.  The  envoi  might  be  omitted, 
as  is  seen  in  the  "Ballade  de  la  Marguerite"  by  Froissart 
(Christomathie  de  L'Ancien  Francais,  L.  Constans,  1906,  p.  103). 
There  was  even  such  a  thing  as  a  'double  ballade'  or  'triple  bal- 
lade' as  is  seen  in  a  rather  formless  poem  in  Villon's  Grand 
Testament.  (Oeuvres  Completes  de  Francois  Villon,  Paris,  1854; 
p.  86.) 

4—  Schipper  states  that  Chaucer's  use  of  L 'envoi  was  different 
from  the  Old  French.  Chaucer's  ballades  are  given  in  Vol.  1  of 
the  Skeat  text. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


21 


ing  the  same  rimes  and  the  same  last  line  in  each 
stanza.    The  envoi  is  often  employed,  but  not  always. 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  these  highly  literary  ballads  of 
Chaucer  to  the  simple  naive  "popular"  ballads  of  Pro- 
fessor Child's  Collection.  Yet  it  was  from  the  former 
that  the  latter  got  their  name.  This  came  about  in 
the  16th  century,  long  after  the  literary  type  had  lost 
its  definite  character,  and  the  name  was  used  with 
extreme  vagueness.  But  the  two  types  had  certain 
elements  in  common  from  the  beginning.  Both  were 
sung  and  danced.  For  the  literary  ballad,  Chaucer 
again  may  be  called  on  for  illustration.  In  the  delight- 
ful prologue  to  the  Legend  of  Good  Women,  we  are 
told  that  nineteen  ladies1  in  royal  habit  with  an  innu- 
merable train  of  women  following  espy  a  daisy,  and  kneel. 

"And  after  that  they  wenten  in  compas, 
Daunsinge  aboute  this  flour  an  esy  pas, 
And  songen,  as  it  were  in  carole-wyse, 
This  balade,  which  that  I  shall  yow  devyse. '  '2 

The  ballad  that  follows  consists  of  three  stanzas, 
each  ababbcbc.    The  first  is  as  follows : 

' 1  Hyd,  Absolon,  thy  gilte  tresses  clere ; 
Ester,  ley  thou  thy  meknesse  al  a-doun; 
Hyd,  Jonathas,-al  thy  frendly  manere; 
Penalopee,  and  Marcia  Catoun, 
Mak  of  your  wyfhod  no  comparisoun; 
Hyde  ye  your  beautes,  Isoude  and  Eleyne, 
Alceste  is  here,  that  al  that  may  desteyne."3 


1 —  Twenty  ladies  including  Alceste,  but  probably  she  did  not 
dance. 

2—  Text  A,  11.  199  ff.  Skeat,  Complete  Works  of  Geoffrey 
Chaucer,  Oxford,  1894. 

3 —  The  repetition  "Hyd,  Absolon,"  "Hyd,  Jonathas,"  etc., 
as  well  as  the  repetition  of  the  final  line,  hardly  suggests  the  tra- 
ditional ballad  repetitions.  More  close  to  the  latter  are'  the  repe- 
titions in  the  Eoundels. 


22 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


The  version  quoted  is  from  Professor  Skeat's  A  text. 
The  lyric  in  the  B  text  reads  somewhat  differently, 
though  it  is  essentially  the  same.  The  important  dif- 
ference lies  in  its  setting.  It  is  introduced  not  as 
being  danced  by  ladies,  but  as  a  song  said;1  and  at  the 
conclusion  it  is  spoken  of  as  a  ballad.2  Here,  then, 
even  at  this  early  day  we  have  ballad  and  song  used 
as  interchangeable  cognomens. 

The  successors  of  Chaucer  seem  to  have  had  different 
conceptions  of  the  metrical  form  of  the  ballad  from 
those  held  by  their  master.  The  titles  may  in  some 
cases  not  have  belonged  to  the  poem  originally.  This 
may  well  be  true  for  "The  Moral  Balade"  of  Henry 
Scogan.3  It  is  a  long  work  of  189  lines,  in  which  the 
stanzas  are  not  in  any  way  interlinked.  The  author 
himself  calls  it  a  "litel  tretys,"  and  surely  it  is  not  to 
be  imagined  as  a  dance  song.  But  the  title  was  given 
to  it  by  John  Shirley  in  the  first  half  of  the  15th  cen- 
tury.4 Shirley  evidently  had  no  feeling  for  the  earlier 
technical  meaning  of  the  word.  He  calls  a  poem  by 
Lydgate  a  ballad  that  is  a  work  140  lines  in  length 
with  no  interlinking  of  stanzas.5  Lydgate,  however, 
did  on  occasion  approach  the  Chaucerian  model,  as  is 
illustrated  by  his  "Goodly  Balade."6  This  seems  to 
be  a  compound  ballad,  much  on  the  plan  of  Chaucer's 

1—  B  text,  Skeat,  Complete  Works  of  G.  Chaucer,  11.  247  ff. 

"And  therfor  may  I  seyn,  as  thinketh  me, 
This  song,  in  preysing  of  this  lady  f re. 7 ' 

2 —  Or  "balade,"  to  be  accurate,  1.  270.  "This  balade  may 
f ul  well  y-congen  be. ' ' 

3 —  Skeat,  Chaucerian  and  other  pieces,  being  a  supplement  to 
the  Complete  Works  of  G.  Chaucer,  Oxford,  1897,  p.  237. 

4 —  Ascription  of  the  title  to  him  by  Skeat,  p.  xli.  Shirley  died 
1456,  Dictionary  of  National  Biography. 

5 —  "A  Balade:  In  Commendation  of  Our  Lady."  Skeat,  Chau- 
cerian and  Other  Pieces,  p.  275. 

6 —  Skeat,  as  before,  p.  405. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


23 


"Fortune."1  But  even  here  the  second  group  is  irreg- 
ular. Lydgate's  "Ballade  of  Good  Counsel"2  follows 
Chaucer  in  so  far  that  it  uses  the  same  last  line  for  all 
stanzas  except  the  two  final,  which  I  suppose  may  be 
thought  of  as  a  double  envoi;  but  on  the  other  hand 
it  is  a  long  poem  of  133  lines.  Another  "Balade  Warn- 
ing Men  to  beware  of  Deceitful  Women"3  is  similar  in 
structure  and  only  extends  to  seven  stanzas. 

Hoccleve  uses  still  a  different  metrical  plan  for  sev- 
eral of  his  ballads.  Again  I  am  not  sure  whether  he 
himself  gave  the  title  to  his  poem,  but  all  that  I  am 
considering  are  to  be  found  in  the  Phillips's  MS.  8151, 
dated  by  Dr.  Furnivall  at  about  1450.4  This  new  type 
of  ballad  form5  consists  of  an  interlinking  of  stanzas, 
not  by  line  repetition  but  by  having  similar  rimes  all 
the  way  through,  each  stanza,  however,  reversing  the 
order  of  rimes  found  in  the  stanza  before:  thus 
ababbcbccbcbabababab.  etc.  Hoccleve  has  several  bal- 
lads of  this  type,  but  he  has  also  ballads  of  a  looser 
structure.  One  ballad  of  twenty  stanzas  has  no  inter- 
linking of  any  sort.    It  begins  with  the  commonplace: 

"As  pat  I  walkid  in  the  monthe  of  May 

Besyde  a  groue  in  an  heuey  musynge, 
Floures  dyverse  I  sy,  right  fressh  and  gay, 


1—  Skeat,  Complete  Works,  1897,  pp.  119-20. 

2 —  Chaucerian  Pieces,  Skeat,  pp.  285  ff. 

3—  Skeat,  ditto,  p.  295. 

4 —  F.  J.  Furnivall.  Hoccleve 's  Minor  Poems,  E.  E.  T.  S.  Ex- 
tra Series,  No.  lxi.,  p.  1. 

5 —  That  is  as  far  as  we  are  concerned.  Of  course  we  are  not 
trying  to  determine  who  introduced  types,  or  who  first  made 
changes.  We  are  merely  dealing  with  typical  forms  in  the  differ- 
ent ages.  An  illustration  of  the  type  is  the  balade  beginning 
''The  Kyng  of  Kynges  regnyng  over  Furnivall,  p*  39;  5 
stanzas. 


24 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


1 1  And  briddes  herde  I  eek  lustyly  synge, 
Tpat  to  my  herte  yaf  a  comfortynge. 
But  euere  o  thoght  me  stang  into  the  herte, 

Tpat  dye  I  sholde,  and  hadde  no  knowynge 
Wharmc.  ne  whidir,  I  sholde  hennes  sterte. 'n 

From  the  citation  already  given  it  is  perfectly  evi- 
dent that  by  the  middle  of  the  15th  century  the  literary 
ballad  had  ceased  to  be  a  rigid  type.2  It  had  become 
much  simpler  as  an  art  form  and  much  easier  to  con- 
struct. The  older  limitations  as  to  length  and  stanza- 
interlinking  were  no  longer  felt  as  binding,  and  fur- 
thermore the  eight-line  stanza,  a  common  form,  ap- 
proached the  double  quatrain  closely  enough  that  it 
might  be  thought  of  as  such  by  an  illiterate  rimester.3 
Again,  the  dancing  and  singing  qualities  of  the  ballad 
must  have  varied  greatly.  Most  of  the  early  literary 
ballads  that  I  have  read  suggest  the  ridiculous  when 
one  thinks  of  them  as  danced,  and  there  are  specimens 
which,  in  this  unsinging  age,  it  is  hard  to  think  of  as 


1 —  Furnivall,  ditto,  p.  67.  This  mode  of  beginning  seems  to 
be  a  general  commonplace.  There  are  a  great  many  similar 
beginnings  in  Eichard  Hill's  Common  Place  Book.  Balliol  M.  S. 
354,  E.  E.  T.  S.,  ed.  by  E.  Dyboski,  1907.  Also  one  or  two  in 
Wright's  Songs  &  Carols,  Percy  Soe.  A  number  of  traditional 
ballads  begin  in  the  same  way.    Child,  No.  239  A,  etc. 

2 —  Of  course  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  these  new  forms  for 
the  balade  developed  directly  or  indirectly  out  of  the  early  com- 
plicated balade  of  Chaucer  or  the  ballade,  technically  so  called, 
of  the  French.  There  were  poets  having  some  of  these  new 
stanzas  long  before  Chaucer, — cf.  Hole's  Love  Eune,  Debate  of 
the  Body  and  the  Soul,  etc.  It  is  merely  that  the  term  ballad 
loses  its  technical  meaning  and  becomes  applied  more  and  more 
loosely. 

3 —  It  is  even  difficult  to  say  in  many  eases  whether  the  ballads 
are  to  be  considered  as  in  4-  or  8-line  stanzas.  I  should  print 
many  of  the  pieces  in  MS.  Eawlinson  C  813  in  8-line  stanzas  that 
its  editor,  Professor  E.  M.  Padelford  (Anglia  xxxi,  pp.  309  ff.) 
has  printed  in  four.  I  should  even  print  the  "Crow  and  Pie" 
(Child  No.  Ill,  found  in  this  MS.)  in  8 -line -stanzas,  against  the 
authority  of  all  earlier  transcribers. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


25 


even  sung.1  And  finally,  the  literary  quality  of  some 
of  these  productions  is  not  high.  The  type  is  approach- 
ing the  doggerel  of  the  stall-ballad.  It  is  a  far  cry 
from  Chaucer's  "Fie  fro  the  prees"  to  the  "Twa 
Brothers"  (Child,  No.  49,)  but  it  is  only  a  stone 's-throw 
from  Hoccleve's  "As  that  I  walkid  in  the  monthe  of 
May"  (just  quoted  in  part)  to  the  work  of  many  a 
later  ballad-monger,  and  the  same  is  true  of  Lydgate's 
"A  Ballad  Warning  Men  to  beware  of  Deceitful  Wo- 
men." These  are  not  quite  stall-ballads;  and  it  must 
be  said  to  the  credit  of  Lydgate,  that,  in  this  piece  at 
least,  he  does  not  hold  up  his  own  case  as  a  terrible  ex- 
ample in  the  way  that  a  later  ballad-writer  would  have 
done.  The  vulgarity,  the  sloppiness,  the  point  of  view 
of  the  tavern  crowd, — traits  very  characteristic  of 
much  of  the  later  balladry, — are  found  more  clearly 
represented  in  some  of  the  minor  poems  of  Skelton.2 

1 —  Thus  the  "  Moral  Balade"  of  Scogan,  lately  mentioned,  is 
called  by  the  author  a  ' '  tretys, ' ;  and  it  has  the  style  of  a  letter 
of  advice,  based  on  personal  experience.  Lydgate's  balade  in 
Commendation  of  Our  Lady,  p.  275,  was  certainly  not  danced,  for 
he  speaks  of  kneeling  and  "  saying "  (1.  21)  a  number  of  stanzas. 
It  hardly  seems  to  have  been  in  the  least  intended  for  singing. 
Compare  also  Hoccleve's  ballade  beginning  "Worshipful  sir,  and 
our  freend  special."  Furnivall,  p.  64  f.  This  is  a  reply  to  a 
letter,  according  to  the  first  stanza. 

2 —  Skelton  ;s  Poems,  ed.  by  A.  Dyce,  1855,  Cambridge.  The 
poem  of  which  the  introductory  couplet  is  quoted  is  at  p.  27. 
' '  Manerly  Margery  Mylk  and  Ale, ' '  p.  35,  is  a  short  piece  with 
the  last  two  lines  the  same  in  each  stanza.  It  mentions  "Jak  of 
the  Vale,"  which  seems  to  have  been  some  popular  ditty.  It  is 
mentioned  again  at  a  much  later  date.  See  Dyce's  note,  p.  26. 
The  piece  sounds  like  a  tavern  song.  The  lament  "Upon  the 
Dethe  of  the  Earl  of  Northumberlande  "  (Dyce,  p.  8)  opens  with 
a  stall  wail :  "I  wayle,  I  wepe,  I  sobbe,  I  sigh  f ul  sore,  /  The 
dedely  fate,  the  dolefulle  desteny, ,;  etc.  Dyce's  note  states  that 
Jak  of  the  Vale  is  found  in  Skelton 's  Magnificence,  "some 
iangelynge  Jacke  of  the  Vale,"  v.  260,  vol.  2,  14.  He  also  gives 
the  two  later  references:  "I  am  not  now  to  tell  a  tale,  /  Of 
George  a  Greene,  or  Jacke  of  Vale."  The  Odcombian  Banquet, 
1611,  sig.  C.  3.  "  And  they  had  leauer  printed  Jacke  a  "Vale  /  Or 
Clim  o'  Clough,"  etc.  J.  Davies  Other  Ecologues  annexed  to  The 
Sheppeard's  Pipe,  1614,  sig.  G.  4. 


26 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


The  latter  seems  to  have  been  fairly  familiar  with  the 
tavern  poetry  of  his  day,  and  such  a  piece  as  that  in- 
troduced by  the  couplet, 

"With  lullay,  lullay,  lyke  a  chylde, 
Thou  slepyst  to  long,  thou  art  begylde," 

suggests  slightly  "The  Broomfield  Hill"  (Child,  No. 
43). 1 

Most  of  the  literary  ballads,  however,  have  little  in 
common  with  the  so-called  traditional  or  popular  bal- 
lads, kor  is  it  possible  to  bridge  directly  the  gap.( 
The  early  literary  forms  seem  always  to  have  had  five 
beats  to  the  line.2  The  narrative  element,  too,  is  prac- 
tically wanting.  As  the  type  sank  it  gradually  fell  in 
with  the  stall  and  minstrel  productions,  and  it  was 
through  the  latter  that  it  was  finally  able  to  transfer 
its  name  to  what  we  now  know  as  the  ballad.  Mem- 
bers of  the  Child  type  in  the  early  references  to  them 
were  never  known  by  the  same  name.3  Robin  Hood 
ballads  were  spoken  of  as  "rymes"  in  the  Piers  Plow- 


1 —  When  I  first  made  this  statement  I  was  not  aware  that 
Prof.  Gummere  had  said  the  same  thing  long  before.  See  his 
introduction  to  Old  English  Ballads,  1903,  p.  xx,  note. 

2 —  In  France  there  were  numerous  8-syllabled  ballades  as  well 
as  10.  In  the  Cent  Ballades  there  were  even  stanzas  with  short 
lines.  Villon,  Ballade  des  Dames  du  Temps  Jodis,  etc.  Les- 
Cents  Ballades,  Nos.  xiii-xv,  etc.  Societe  des  Ancien  Textes 
Franc,ais. 

3 —  At  least,  I  know  of  no  instances.  In  the  Interlude  of  the 
Four  Elements  (dated  by  Schellihg  about  1517)  there  is  an  inter- 
esting passage  about  the  singing  of  the  ballad.  (Halliwell  Percy 
Soc.  Eeprint,  p.  50.)  Ignorance  asks  what  they  shall  do  while  Sen- 
suality has  gone  to  get  minstrels  for  comfort.  Humanity  suggests 
"Then  let  us  some  lusty  balet  syng."    (For  Ignorance,  Ign.) 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY  27 

man  passage,1  and  Alexander  Barclay  in  his  translation 
of  ' '  The  shyp  of  f olys, ' '  printed  by  Pynson  in  1508,  re- 
fers to  the  Robin  Hood  poems  as  ' 'jests,"  "fables," 
"tales."2 

"Ign. — Nay,  syr,  by  the  Hevyn  Kyng! 

For  me  thynkyth  it  semyth  for  no  thyng 
All  suche  pevysh  prykeryd  song! 

Hum. — Pes,  man,  pvyksong  may  not  be  dispysed, 
For  therwith  God  is  well  plesyd, 
Honowryd,  praysyd,  and  servyd, 
In  the  churche  oft  tymes  among. 

Ign. — Is  God  well  pleasyd?  trowst  thou  thereby? 

Nay,  nay,  for  there  is  no  reason  why, 

For  is  it  not  as  good  to  say  playnly, 
Gyf  me  a  spade, 

As  gyf  me  a  spa,  ve,  va,  ve,  va,  ve,  vade? 

But  yf  thou  wylt  have  a  song  that  is  good, 

I  have  one  of  Eobyn  Hode 
The  best  that  ever  was  made." 

The  song  that  Ignorance  sings  is  a  medley,  with  only  the  first  line 
from  Eobin  Hood.  But  this  passage  shows  clearly,  I  think,  that 
Eobin  Hood  was  not  thought  of  as  a  ballad  even  in  1517.  And 
furthermore,  it  shows  that  ballads  were  often  in  tortured  or 
"classical"  music,  and  that  the  same  kind  of  music  was  used  in 
church  songs.  Sensuality  says  just  before  the  passage  quoted: 
"Then  wyll  I  go  incontynent,  /  And  prepare  every  thing,  /  That 
is  metely  to  be  done;  /  And  for  the  lack  of  mynstrelles  the  mean  . 
season,  /  Now  wyll  we  begyn  to  syng.  /  Now  we  wyll  here  begyn 
to  synge,  /  For  daunce  can  we  no  more,  /  For  mynstrelles  here  j  ^ 
be  all  lackynge;  /  To  the  taverne  we  wyll  therfore."  This  sug- 
gests that  dancing  was  not  done  to  ballads  at  this  time  or  place, 
but  only  to  instrumental  music.  Compare  also  Skelton,  Dyce  1, 
p.  40.    Bowge  at  Court: 

' '  Wolde  to  God  it  wolde  you  please  some  daye, 
A  balade  boke  before  me  for  to  laye, 
And  lerne  me  for  to  synge  Be,  mi,  fa,  sol! 
And  when  I  fayle,  bobbe  me  on  the  noli." 
Quoted  by  Chappell,  Pop.  Music,  1,  52.    Shelton  introduces  Harvy 
Hafter  as  one  who  cannot  sing  "on  a  booke,"  but  he  thus  ex- 
presses his  desire  to  learn;  (verse  as  above). 


1—  Skeat,  B  text,  Passus  Y,  11.  400-2.  C  text,  Passus  VIII, 
11.  10-11. 

2 —  The  passages  quoted  in  Eitson's  Eobin  Hood,  Notes  &  Illus- 
trations, p.  71.    London,  1884. 


28 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Having  now  shown  the  tendencies  at  work  in  the  de- 
generation of  the  literary  ballad,  we  are  prepared  to 
understand  later  developments,  and  especially  the  vague 
uses  of  the  term  in  the  16th,  17th,  and  18th  centuries. 
But  before  we  present  any  of  this  later  material  let 
us  turn  to  Scotland  for  a  moment  and  consider  what 
was  the  signification  of  the  term  "ballad"  for  Scot- 
land's greatest  early  poet,  William  Dunbar. 

Dunbar  presents  a  great  deal  of  interesting  material, 
much  of  which  is  different  from  anything  we  have  had 
before.  He  liked  the  metrical  device  of  ending  each 
stanza  with  the  same  line  and  he  used  it  frequently  all 
through  his  career,  and  for  poems  of  very  different 
stanza-length  and  structure.  He  used  it  for  stanzas  of 
eight,  seven,  six,  five,  and  four  lines  in  length,1 — as 
great  variety  as  one  could  well  wish,  a  variety  again 
intensified  by  his  ingenious  rime  schemes  and  by  the 
use  of  lines  of  both  four  beats  and  five.  Aside  from 
the  use  of  identical  last  line,  Dunbar  is  far  away 
from  the  Chaucerian  standard  of  the  ballad.  There 
is  no  limit  to  the  number  of  stanzas  :  the  line  usually 
is  made  up  of  only  four  measures  or  beats;  and  there 
is  no  other  stanza  interlinking  than  that  brought 

1 — J.  Schipper,  Poems  of  "William  Dunbar,  Vienna,  1891-3. 
Compare  for  illustration,  In  Honour  of  the  City  of  London,  p.  88, 
ababbcbc,  5  beats.  The  Tod  and  the  Lamb,  p.  35,  aabbcbc,  4 
beats.  To  the  King  (The  Petition  of  the  Gray  Horse,  auld  Dun- 
bar), p.  274,  aaabbb,  4  beats.  The  Twa  Cummeris,  aabab,  4  beats, 
p.  73.  Later  editors  have  named  many  pieces  by  him,  ballads. 
The  11  ballad"  of  Kynd  Kittok  (p.  70)  probably  forces  the  term 
as  much  as  any  of  his  poems  that  now  bear  the  name.  It  is  a 
bob-wheel  stanza  of  13  lines,  including  the  bob-wheel.  There  is 
no  repetition,  but  the  poem  consists  of  three  stanzas.  The  first 
8  lines  seem  to  be  Alexanderines  (though  they  are  hard  to  scan) 
rimed  abababab;  the  short  line  bob  is  rimed  abbba.  "Ane  'Bal- 
lat'  of  our  Lady"  (p.  369),  so  named  by  its  first  editor  Laing,  is 
in  " aureate  terms."  It  is  in  12-line  stanzas  abababababab,  alter- 
nating four  beats  and  three. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


29 


about  by  the  last-line  refrain.  Dunbar,  however, 
thought  of  the  ballad  as  at  least  sometimes  sung  and 
danced,  as  he  shows  in  a  passage  in  the  ' '  Golden  Targe '  * 
(11.  129  f).   In  the  Court  of  Cupid 


"One  herp,  and  lute,  full  merrely  thay  playit, 
And  sang  Ballattis  with  michty  notis  cleir ; 
Ladeis  to  danss  full  sobirly  assayit, 
Endlang  the  lusty  rever,  so  they  mayit. ' '  I 

Of  course  these  lines  may  possibly  mean  that  the  ladies 
merely  sang  the  ballads  and  that  they  danced  to  the 
harp  or  lute,  but  that  is  hardly  a  fair  construction.  Nor 
need  we  be  worried  about  the  possible  objection  that 
not  all  the  stanzaic  poetry  about  which  we  have  been 
generalizing  was  ever  thought  of  as  balladry  by  Dun- 
bar. There  is  evidence  that  the  poet  did  not  use  the 
word  "ballad"  in  any  strict  or  exalted  sense.  In  a 
poem  called  "The  Dream"  (stanza  14)  Dunbar  makes 
reason  say  of  him: 

' 1  For  tyme  war  now  that  this  man  had  sum  thing, 
That  long  hes  bene  ane  serwand  to  the  king, 
And  all  his  tyme  neuir  flatter  couthe  not  faine, 
Bot  humblie  into  ballet  wyse  complaine, 
And  patientlie  indure  his  tormenting." 

Also,  we  have  a  particular  form  spoken  of  as  a 
"ballet"  in  the  second  of  two  poems  upon  James  Doig, 
keeper  of  the  wardrobe  of  the  Queen's  household.  The 
two  poems  are  precisely  alike  in  form,  and  both  play 
mercilessly  upon  the  man's  name,  which,  in  Scotch,  was 
pronounced  like  the  word  ' 1  dog. ' '  The  first  was  written 
after  the  keeper  had  given  offense  to  Dunbar  and  the 
second  later,  after  he  had  made  amends  and  had,  to 
use  the  poet's  words,  "plesit  him."  The  second  poem 
caused  Pinkerton,  the  first  editor  of  it,  to  wonder 
whether  it  might  have  been  most  dangerous  to  please  or 


30 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


to  displease  Dunbar.  We  shall  quote  it  as  an  example 
of  early  Scotch  literary  balladry.  It  will  be  noted  that 
this  poem  is  a  four-beat  quatrain,  and  though  different 
absolutely  in  kind,  it  approaches  the  so-called  tradi- 
tional ballad  more  closely  than  anything  heretofore 
treated ;  j 

' 1 0  gracious  Princes,  guid  and  fair ! 
Do  weill  to  James  zour  Wardraipair ; 
Quhais  faithful  bruder  maist  f reind  I  am : 
He  is  na  Dog;  he  is  a  Lam. 

II 

Thocht  I  in  ballet  did  with  him  bourde, 
In  malice  spack  I  newir  ane  woord, 
Bot  all,  my  Dame,  to  do  zou  gam: 
He  is  na  Dog;  he  is  a  Lam. 

Ill 

Zour  Hienes  can  nocht  gett  ane  meter. 
To  keip  zour  wardrope,  nor  discreter, 
To  rule  zour  robbis,  and  dress  the  sam: 
He  is  na  Dog;  he  is  a  Lam. 

IV 

The  wyff,  that  he  had  in  his  innys, 

That  with  the  taingis  wald  brack  his  schinnis, 

I  wald  scho  drownit  war  in  a  dam: 

He  is  na  Dog;  he  is  a  Lam. 

V 

The  wyff  that  wold  him  kuckald  mak,1 
I  wold  scho  war,  bayth  syd  and  back, 
Weill  batteret  with  ane  barrow-tram: 
He  is  na  Dog;  he  is  a  Lam. 

VI 

He  hes  sa  weill  doin  me  obey 
Intill  all  thing,  thairfair  I  pray 
That  newir  dolour  mak  him  dram : 
He  is  na  Dog;  he  is  a  Lam."2 

1 —  Note  the  parallelism  in  stanzas  4  and  5, — almost  incremental 
repetition. 

2—  Schipper,  p.  201  f. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


31 


The  use  of  the  same  last  line  for  each  stanza  was  a 
device  employed  often  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  but  the 
resulting  products,  if  they  had  any  claim  to  literary 
merit,  were  likely  to  be  called  by  some  other  name  than 
ballad.  The  word  ' 4 sonnet"  often  now  did  service. 
From  this  time  on  the  term  "ballad"  or  "ballet"  was 
distinctly  plebeian,  suggesting  as  a  rule  the  "poetry  of 
the  people"  in  a  very  different  sense  from,  that  in  which 
the  phrase  is  now  usually  understood.  But  in  this 
humble  rank  the  word  "ballad"  was  used  with  greater 
range  than  ever  before.  Professor  Gummere  in  speak- 
ing of  the  confusion  resulting  from  this  range  does  not 
state  the  case  too  strongly  when  he  says :  ' '  The  main 
source  of  error  lies  in  the  application  of  the  word  how- 
ever spelled,  to  almost  any  short  narrative  poem,  to  any 
short  didactic  poem,  to  almost  any  sort  of  lyric,  and  to 
almost  every  conceivable  form  of  reviling  or  grumbling 
in  verse.  No  better  proof  of  this  confusion  can  be 
found  than  in  the  Register  of  the  Company  of  Sta- 
tioners in  London.  Now  and  then  we  meet  the  tradi- 
tional ballad  of  the  people :  'a  ballett  of  Wakefylde  and 
agrene'  (1557-58),  is  followed  by  'a  ballett  of  admonys- 
sion  to  leave  swerynge'  and  'a  ballett  called  have  pytie 
on  the  poore'  (1559) .  John  Aide  pays  his  fee  for  'prynt- 
inge  of  a  balett  of  Robyn  Hod'  (1562-3)  ;  but  compare 
this  batch  of  seven  'ballettes':  Godly  Immes  used  in 
the  churches;  who  are  so  mery  as  thay  of  ye  low  estate; 
The  proverbe  is  tru  yat  weddynge  ys  Destyne;  The 
Eobery  at  Gaddes  Hill;  holdeth  ancer  fast;  be  mery, 
good  J  one;  the  panges  of  love.  Moral  parodies  of  a 
popular  song,  hymns,  satire  and  personal  attack,  rimes 
about  a  duke's  funeral  or  a  campaign  in  Scotland,  or 
any  nine  days'  wonder, — all  these  with  an  occasional 


32 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ballad  of  tradition,  are  entered  in  the  registers  under 
the  convenient  name."1 

There  are  a  few  points  that  need  to  be  emphasized  in 
this  impartial  summary.  In  the  first  place  no  distinc- 
tion is  made  between  ballad  and  song, — but  we  found 
that  the  same  thing  was  true  for  at  least  one  case  in 
Chaucer.  In  the  second  place  we  find  that  narrative 
is  still  not  a  distinguishing  characteristic  of  balladry. 
Most  of  the  actual  pieces  listed  in  the  preceding 
account  presumably  told  no  story.  In  that,  they  fairly 
represent  conditions  in  their  period.2  Next,  the  tradi- 
tional ballad  has  at  last  fallen  under  the  general  name 
by  which  it  was  later  to  be  known  almost  exclusively.3 
But  note  that  it  is  only  "now  and  then"  that  we  meet 
with  it.  If  we  exclude  the  outlaw  type,  such  as  Eobin 
Hood  and  Clim  of  the  Clough,  we  find  almost  no  tradi- 
tional ballads  at  all,  and  yet  there  were  thousands  of 
the  other  sorts  printed.4    There  is  absolutely  no  proof 


1—  Gummere,  Old  English  Ballads,  pp.  XVIII,  ft.  Professor 
Gummere 's  account  is  illustrated  by  Shakespeare's  Winter's  Tale, 
Act  IV,  sc.  IV. 

2 —  Professor  Gummere  a  page  or  so  later  (O.  E.  Ballads,  p. 
XXII)  says  that  "Dunbar's  frequently  complicated  arrangement 
of  the  stanzas,  and  a  recurring  refrain,  suggest  models  far  re- 
moved from  the  verses  of  that  later  rout  whom  Shakespeare  knew, 
the  'scald  rimers'  who  balladed  out  o'  tune."  But  much  of  the 
later  stall-balladry  is  in  complicated  meter,  though  the  line-length 
tended  to  be  short.  Such  a  piece  as  the  Nut-Brown  Maid,  for 
instance,  if  printed  by  the  stall  press  would  probably  appear  in 
short  lines. 

3 —  Still,  Sir  Philip  Sidney  speaks  of  the  "old  song  of  Percy 
and  Duglas,"  Apologie  for  Poetrie,  Arber,  p.  46.  And  Thomas 
Deloney  in  his  John  Winchcomb  (Siever's  Eeprint,  195  f.),  refers 
to  the  "Fair  Flower  of  Northumberland"  (Child,  No.  9)  as  a 
song  (ch.  Ill,  and  at  the  end  of  chapter  II  of  the  same  work 
he  likewise  called  Flodden  Field  (168)  a  song.  Martin  Parker 
calls  his  Eobin  Hood  story  1 1  a  true  tale. ' ' 

4—  Chappell,  Eoxburghe  Ballads  II,  105  f.  n.  .  .  .  "accord- 
ing to  the  registers  of  the  Stationers '  Company,  7 60  ballads  were 
transferred  to  the  new  wardens  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  for 
entry,  at  the  end  of  the  year  1560,  and  but  44  books. ' ' 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


33 


that  to  any  of  the  Elizabethan  writers  the  term  "ballad" 
connoted  a  poem  of  the  Child  type.  Before  we  finish 
our  treatment  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  show  that  up  to 
1765  it  was  difficult  to  obtain  what  we  call  traditional 
ballads,  indeed  as  hard  as  it  is  for  us  to  obtain  broad- 
sides. The  term  "ballad,"  then,  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth 
was  very  loose  in  signification,  but  it  was  applied  most 
often  to  poems  of  the  various  sorts,  generally  doggerel, 
that  were  printed  as  broadsides  and  sold  in  petty  book- 
stalls, or  hawked  about  the  streets,  or  indeed  sung  by 
ballad-singers  as  a  preliminary  to  a  sale. 

In  the  17th  century  there  were  no  important  changes 
that  I  know  of  in  the  use  of  the  term.  Dr.  Fritz 
Kiihner1  in  a  dissertation  on  the  "  Litterarische  Char- 
akteristik  der  Roxburgh  e-und  Bagford  Balladen" 
classifies  the  material  of  those  collections  into  nineteen 
sorts.  It  is  not  necessary  to  present  his  list  here. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  there  was  still  extreme  looseness 
in  the  use  of  the  term,  and  that  our  favorite  type,  the 
traditional  ballad,  was  still  rarely  to  be  met  with. 

In  the  18th  century  the  stall-ballad  or  broadside  con- 
tinued as  the  best  known  form,  though  with  the  rise 
of  the  newspaper2  it  began  to  lose  its  strong  hold  upon 
the  humble  public.  But  in  the  18th  century  it  got  a 
new  following  in  the  literary  circle,  with  results  that 
completely  revolutionized  its  whole  status.  We  are 
not  in  this  chapter  writing  a  history  of  balladry,  so 
that  all  that  is  necessary  for  us  to  say  here  is,  that  the 
ballad  became  again  a  cherished  literary  form.  The 
products  outside  of  the  ballad  opera — an  18th  century 

1 —  Freiburg,  i.  B.,  1895.  His  list  of  stall-ballad  types  is  to  be 
found  on  pages  15,  16. 

2 —  At  least  that  is  one  of  the  principal  reasons  for  the  change. 
Of  course  there  were  others. 


34 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


creation, — were  usually  narrative  and  often  sentimen- 
tal. Tiekell 's  ' :  Lucy  and  Colin, ' '  Hamilton 's  ' '  Braes  and 
Yarrow,"  Mrs.  Ward! aw 's  "Hardyknute,"  and  pieces  by 
Grainger,  Glover,  Shenstone,  Percy,  Goldsmith,  and 
others, — not  to  mention  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge  at 
the  end  of  the  century — sufficiently  illustrate  the  new 
literary  ballad.  Both  stall  and  traditional  pieces  were 
made  use  of  in  forming  this  new  type,  and  that  must 
be  borne  in  mind  in  judging  the  products.  There  had 
long  been  an  antiquarian  interest  in  the  ballad.  Cap- 
tain Cox's  ballads,  it  will  be  remembered  that  Laneham 
says  in  his  letter  (1575),  were  all  ancient.1  But  in  the 
18th  century,  antiquarianism,  joined  to  this  new  literary 
appreciation,  made  discoveries  of  material  that  com- 
pletely changed  the  point  of  view  for  the  type.  All 
of  these  additions  are  directly  due  to  the  working  of  a 
new  field.  It  was  not  until  the  18th  century  that  it 
was  learned  that  Mopsa  was  wrong  and  that  the  1 1  ballad 
in  print"  was  not  the  best  sort.2  In  the  hundred  years 
following  1765  we  find  a  most  extraordinary  abundance 
of  new  old-ballads  presented  to  the  world,  and  most  of 
them  were  obtained  from  living  tradition  in  very 
remote  places.  They  were  immediately  recognized  as 
greatly  superior  to  the  average  stall-ballad  in  their 
naive  charm,  and  furthermore  they  were  perceived  to 
have  certain  characteristics  of  manner  that  marked 
them  off  into  a  new  type.  Finally,  Professor  Child, 
largely  on  the  basis  of  this  newly  acquired  material, 
made  his  great  definitive  collection  of  English  tradi- 
tioDal  ballads,  and  since  then  we,  on  this  side  of  the 

1—  Laneham 's  Letter  from  Kenilworth,  1575.  Edited  by  F.  J. 
Furnivall  as  Captain  Cox,  Ballad  Society,  1871.  It  will  also  be 
remembered  that  in  the  17th  century,  Shelden,  Pepys,  and  Wood 
were  extensive  broadside  collectors. 

2—  Winter's  Tale  IV,  sc.  4,  1.  252. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


35 


Atlantic,  have  hardly  been  able  to  think  of  popular 
ballads  as  anything  different  from  those  he  has  pre- 
sented.1 Meanwhile  the  stall  productions  lost  favor. 
In  the  19th  century  they  practically  ceased  to  be 
printed  and  they  are  now  hard  to  obtain.  When,  there- 
fore, we  think  of  the  ballad  the  stall  types  are  not 
likely  to  be  connoted.  Some  of  us  are  even  in  danger 
of  reasoning  as  if  present  conditions  prevailed  in  the 
past  with  unfortunate  results  in  historical  appreciation. 
It  is  with  a  view  to  making  sure  that  the  perspective 
is  right  that  I  have  given  this  brief  introduction. 

To-day  we  still  have  literary  ballads,  but  there  is  no 
clanger  of  confusing  them  with  the  traditional  type. 
The  latter  kind  stands  apart  as  something  no  longer 
to  be  made  and  no  longer  successfully  to  be  imitated.2 
Traditional  balladry  is  a  closed  account, — though  per- 
sonally I  cannot  see  that  that  means  much  in  defining 
the  origin  of  the  type.  The  ballad  is  not  the  only 
poetry  that  presents  a  closed  account.  Chaucer,  Spen- 
ser, and  Shakespeare, — not  to  swell  the  list, — have  all 
been  imitated  in  the  past,  but  never  with  results  that 
would  deceive  an  expert.3  Still,  whatever  the  condi- 
tions were  that  brought  forth  the  peculiarities  of  the 
traditional  ballad,  they  are  at  least  now  past  and  pre- 
sumably beyond  recall. 

This  last  paragraph  at  once  suggests  the  question: 
What  are  the  characteristics  of  the  traditional  ballad? 
If  a  scientific  answer  is  wished  for,  nothing  more  per- 

1 —  In  England,  scholars  have  not  been  so  ready  to  follow  Pro- 
fessor Child's  lead.  G.  Gregory  Smith,  for  instance,  uses  the 
term  in  a  much  older  sense.  He  calls  the  Bloody  Sark  a  true 
ballad. 

2—  Gummere,  the  Popular  Ballad,  1907,  pp.  14  and  313  f." 

3 —  It  seems  even  probable  that  the  ballad  has  been  more  suc- 
cessfully imitated  than  these  poets.  If  Scott  made  Kinmont 
Willie,  he  certainly  did  very  well. 


36 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


plexing  could  be  asked.  It  is  clear  from  a  study  of 
the  specimens  in  the  Child  Collection  that  we  are  not 
there  dealing- with  an  absolutely  homogeneous  type.1 
It  is  not  that  Professor  Child's  critical  instincts  were 
at  fault,  but  rather  that  the  traditional  ballad  comprises 
a  family,  not  a  mere  species ;  and  in  the  present  imper- 
fect state  of  the  remains  it  is  very  difficult  to  say  just 
what  is  the  unifying  principle.  It  is  not  tradition 
alone,  for  there  are  lots  of  other  things  that  are  tra- 
ditional that  are  not  ballads.2  It  is  not  the  narrative 
element,  for  not  all  ballads  are  narrative.3  It  is  not 
the  verse  form,4  nor  necessity  of  a  communal  throng, 
nor  any  definable  naive  quality,  nor  any  particular 
mode5  of  construction.  And  yet  at  least  several  of 
these  elements,  though  not  always  the  same  ones,  seem 
to  be  required  to  make  a  poem  a  "traditional"  ballad. 
That  is  not  a  very  precise  statement,  and  it  is  entirely 
unscientific.  Nevertheless  it  is  about  as  close  as  I  shall 
try  to  come  in  the  matter  of  definition.  For  our  pur- 
pose it  is  unnecessary  to  consider  ballad  types  as 
encompassed  by  hard  and  fast  lines;  and  as  a  note 
toward  historical  accuracy  we  may  add  that  they  are 
not  really  thus  encompassed  anyway.    It  is  quite  suf- 


1 —  W.  M.  Hart,  in  his  thesis  Ballad  and  Epic,  Harvard  Studies, 
v.  XI,  shows  what  distinct  narrative  methods  have  been  employed 
in  different  classes  of  ballads.  Professor  Gummere,  in  his  Popu- 
lar Ballad,  1907,  chapter  II,  discusses  the  differences  in  ballads 
in  still  other  ways. 

2 —  For  most  of  the  oldest  ballads  there  is  no  direct  proof  of  a 
traditional  provenance.  They  were  found  in  very  untraditional 
company.  Also  many  old  carols  and  songs,  quite  dissimilar  to 
ballads,  have  a  good  right  to  be  called  traditional,  not  to  mention 
c  Hildren 's  games  and  nursery  rimes. 

3 —  Both  Hart  and  Gummere  show  that  the  ' '  simple ' '  ballad  may 
present  a  mere  situation. 

4 —  The  verse  form  has  been  discussed  by  Gummere,  O.  E.  Bal- 
lads, p.  307  f. 

5 —  I  cannot  see  that  incremental  repetition  is  any  sure  criterion. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


37 


ficient  to  group  ballads  into  three  loose  genera:  the 
literary,  the  stall,  and  the  traditional.  The  name  in 
each  case  ought  to  be  almost  sufficient  to  suggest  the 
characteristics  of  the  division.  By  the  literary  we 
shall  mean  those,  of  whatever  age  or  form,  that  have 
been  written  for  the  higher  classes,  that  have  pretended 
to  literary  excellence,  and  have  been  supposed  to  be 
art  products.  In  future  we  shall  have  nothing  to  do 
with  these  ballads,  except  when  they  can  be  made  to 
throw  light  upon  the  other  types. 

By  the  stall  ballads  we  shall  mean  such  rimed  pieces 
as  were  made  to  be  sung  or  recited  to  or  by  the  com- 
mon people.  Generally  they  are  the  work  of  cheap 
minstrels  or  ballad-mongers,  and  there  is  about  them 
usually  the  taint  of  a  professionalism  of  a  low  order. 
In  later  times  they  were  printed  as  broadsides  and  sold 
at  cheap  book-stalls — hence  the  name, — but  I  believe 
it  can  safely  be  affirmed  that  the  type  may  be  traced 
long  anterior  to  the  invention  of  printing.  Of  course 
it  is  a  loose  type,  like  the  others,  and  far  from  homo- 
geneous. The  specimens  are  very  numerous  and  often 
completely  uninteresting.  They  were  very  popular, 
however,  in  their  own  day,  and  some  of  the  pieces  got 
into  tradition.1  Though  I  have  skimmed  through  sev- 
eral hundred  specimens,  and  have  read  a  good  number 
carefully,  I  make  no  pretence  to  anything  more  than  a 
general  knowledge  of  the  type.  It,  too,  will  be  used  in 
a  subordinate  way  as  a  background  for  the  next  divi- 
sion, though  it  will  receive  more  attention  than  the 
literary  ballad. 

1 — The  word  ' 1  popular ' '  has  caused  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  The 
Child  ballads  have  no  exclusive  right  to  the  term.  Popular  origin 
may  be  ascribed  to  a  large  amount  of  song  material  of  different 
types.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  popular  taste  has  ever  been 
uniform  or  has  remained  exactly  stationary. 


38 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Last  of  all  there  is  the  traditional  ballad,  by  which 
we  shall  understand  the  general  type  presented  practi- 
cally in  its  entirety  in  the  Child  Collection.  If  this 
last  statement  necessitates  an  assumption,  I  cheerfully 
make  it,  though  I  nfay  again  assure  the  ultra  cautious 
that  the  assumption  is  not  at  all  requisite  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  any  of  my  conclusions.  I  am  not  in  this 
thesis  championing  any  theory  of  ballad  origins,  and  I 
shall  endeavor  all  along  to  handle  my  material  freely. 
The  type,  though  not  absolutely  homogeneous,  is  more 
so  than  either  of  the  others.  It  seems  hardly  necessary 
to  discuss  at  length  its  characteristics :  especially  since 
the  latter  have  been  given  such  full  treatment  by  Pro- 
fessors Gummere  and  Hart.  While  independent  of 
these  writers,  I  shall  follow  their  generalizations  to  a 
considerable  extent  in  my  own  analyses  of  specimens. 


CHAPTER  II 


English  Balladry  to  the  End  of  the  Fourteenth  Century 
Ml  HE  history  of  early  English  balladry  has  always 


been  and  is  likely  to  remain  an  extremely  obscure 


M  subject.  Ballads  may  well  have  existed  in  Anglo- 
Saxon  times,  but  if  so  what  their  nature  was  is  now 
absolutely  a  matter  of  conjecture.  The  ballads  of  the 
Child  Collection  practically  begin  with  the  15th  cen- 
tury. There  seems  no  good  reason  in  theory  why  that 
should  mark  the  boundary,  and  indeed,  one  lone 
specimen,  the  "Judas,"1  found  in  a  manuscript  of  the 
13th  century,  does  help,  though  somewhat  lamely,  to 
carry  ballads  back  into  the  heart  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
Still,  the  most  that  can  be  said  for  early  epochs  is 
mere  surmise  or  theory.  Professor  Gummere  has  gone 
over  this  field  so  thoroughly  and  has  stated  the  facts 
so  simply  and  clearly  in  his  new  book,  "The  Popular 
Ballad,"2  that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  do  better  than  to 
present  the  sum  of  his  conclusions.  For  the  Old  English 
period  he  says: 

"Absolutely  no  Anglo-Saxon  verse  which  has  come 
down  shows  a  shred  of  structural  and  formal  identity 
with  the  actual  ballads;  there  is  no  strophic  division,  no 
refrain,  save  in  the  song  of  Deor, — and  that  pretty 
Lyric  denies  balladry  in  every  syllable.  Something  like 
the  ballad  .  .  .  our  ancestors  must  have  had;  but 
nothing  can  be  restored  and  little  can  be  guessed.  Cer- 
tainly neither  'Maiden  Fight'  nor  a  poem  from  the 

1—  No.  23,  in  the  Child  Collection.  From  MS.  B14,  39,  Library 
of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 

2 —  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Company,  1907.  The  Types  of  English 
Literature  Series. 


39 


40 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Chronicle  like  '  Brunanburh '  can  pass  as  a  traditional 
ballad.  .  .  .  They  are  both  made  on  the  epic  pattern 
dominant  everywhere  in  Anglo-Saxon  verse;  and,  in- 
deed, the  uniform  style  and  the  slight  differences  in 
metrical  form  which  all  the  poetry  reveals  make  one 
of  the  marvels  of  literature.  Such  a  lyrical  subject  as 
'The  Wife's  Complaint,'  for  instance,  should  lend 
itself  admirably  to  the  ballad  style,  and  ought  to  differ 
structurally  from  epic ;  but  how  traditionally  epic  are 
its  phrases,  how  sophisticated  its  variations  and  meta- 
phors, how  intricate  and  interlaced  its  stichic  verses, 
and  how  remote  it  is  from  actual  singing,  compared 
with  the  simplicity  of  style,  the  choral  suggestion  of 
structure,  the  repetitions,  and  the  irresistible  lilt,  in  a 
real  traditional  ballad  of  later  time  but  similar 
theme!"1  He  quotes  from  the  ballad,  'The  Queen  of 
Effan's  Nourice,'  to  support  his  contention.2 

1—  The  Popular  Ballad,  pp.  34,  35. 

2 —  No.  40,  Child.  From  Skene  MS.,  early  19th  century.  It  is 
well  to  quote  Gummere's  comparisons.  From  the  Wife's  Com- 
plaint; the  banished  wife  in  the  morning  must  go. 

' '  Under  the  oak  to  the  earth-caves  lone, 
there  must  I  sit  the  summer-long  day, 
there  must  I  weep  my  weary  exile, 
my  need  and  misery.  Nevermore 
shall  I  cease  from  the  sorrow  my  soul  endureth, 
from  all  the  longing  this  life  has  brought  me !  ' ' 

Of  the  landscape  she  says: — 

"Dim  are  the  dales,  the  dunes  are  high, 
bitter  my  burgwalls,  briar-covered, 
joyless  my  dwelling." 

Contrast  with  this  the  ballad: — 

"I  heard  a  cow  low,  a  bonnie  cow  low, 
An'  a  cow  low  down  in  yon  glen; 
Lang,  lang  will  my  young  son  greet 
Or  his  mither  bid  him  come  ben. 
I  heard  a  cow  low,  a  bonnie  cow  low, 
An'  a  cow  low  down  in  yon  fauld; 
Lang,  lang  will  my  young  son  greet 
Or  his  mither  take  him  f rae  cauld. ' ' 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


41 


Professor  Gummere  has  considerable  more  to  say 
about  the  relation  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  to  the  ballad, 
but  all  tells  the  same  story.  The  Child  ballad  has  abso- 
lutely no  likeness  to  anything  found  in  that  whole 
range  of  verse.  Furthermore,  if  our  traditional  ballad, 
recovered  in  modern  times,  is  to  be  thought  of  as  a 
form  survival  from  a  remote  period  of  communal  civili- 
zation, we  have  not  at  all  got  back  to  that  period  when 
we  reach  the  Anglo-Saxons.  Compared  with  that 
primitive  stage,  they  too  were  moderns.1  Improvisa- 
tion in  poetry,  to  be  sure,  played  a  much  larger  part 
then  than  later,  but  there  is  not  the  slightest  evidence 
to  show  that  the  verses  improvised  differed  in  the  least 
from  specimens  of  the  poetry  that  have  come  to  us. 
In  fact,  all  the  evidence  we  have  points  the  other  way.2 
If  the  Child  ballad  existed  among  the  Anglo-Saxons, 
it  must  have  been  about  the  same  status  as  later.  It 
was  not  a  standard,  literary  form,  cultivated  or  favored 
by  the  court  or  among  the  learned.  It  was  leading  a 
humble  Cinderella  life,  quite  apart  from  public  con- 
sciousness.   It  was  not  respected  and  hence  recorded. 

1 —  Music  must  have  been  much  cherished  among  the  Anglo- 
Saxons  if  we  are  to  judge  from  the  numerous  references  to  it  in 
the  poetry.  For  a  list  of  the  music  instruments,  compare  the 
following  from  the  Phoenix  (Thorp's  translation,  Codex  Exon- 
iensis.  London,  1842):  "Its  voice's  sound  is  /  than  all  vocal 
music  /  sweeter  and  finer,  /  and  more  delightful  /  than  any  arti- 
fice: /  that  sound  may  not  equal  /  trumpets  nor  horns,  /  nor 
the  harp's  sound,  /  nor  voice  of  men,  /  any  on  earth,  /  nor 
organ's  tone,  /  song's  melody,  /  nor.  swan's  plumes,  /  nor  any  of 
those  sounds,  /  that  the  Lord  hath  created  /  for  delight  to  men,  /. 
in  this  sad  world."/ 

2—  Compare  the  Caedmon  material.  Putting  aside  the  Junius 
MS.  we  still  have  the  so-called  Csedmon  hymn.  This  is  to  be 
found  in  a  version  dated  737,  (cf.  Sweet  Anglo-Saxon  Reader, 
1894,  7th  ed.,  p.  224.)  However  apocryphal  the  story  of  its 
authorship,  the  hymn  itself  may  be  held  to  illustrate  what  was 
thought  of  as  improvised  verse.  Compare  also  the  account  in 
Beowulf,  vv.  865  ff.  Professor  Gummere  discusses  the  latter  refer- 
ence in  his  Popular  Ballads,  pp.  40-41. 


42 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


But  we  are  not  at  the  end  of  our  difficulties  yet.  It 
is  not  sufficient  to  assign  the  Anglo-Saxon  ballad,  grant- 
ing that  it  existed,  "the  same  status  as  later."  What 
was  the  verse  form  ?  If  alliterative,  it  is  hard  to  explain 
the  transition  to  the  rimed  meter.1  The  difficulty  is 
greater  than  for  learned  poetry, — for  we  are  supposing 
the  ballad  to  be  a  traditional  form,  a  literary  fossil, 
preserving  the  art  of  an  earlier  epoch,  and  enduring  an 
existence  quite  out  of  the  current  of  progress.  Yet 
rime  is  very  closely  bound  up  with  all  specimens  of 
English  balladry  that  have  come  to  us.2  The  explana- 
tion that  the  change  was  brought  about  by  way  of  relig- 
ious verse  and  music  is  not  entirely  satisfactory.3  In 

1 —  The  subject  of  early  English  meters  is,  of  course,  too  com- 
plicated to  receive  treatment  here.  The  subject  is  very  intangible, 
and  there  is  no  agreement  among  scholars  as  to  the  method  of 
reading  the  standard  forms.  Opposed  to  the  Siever's  type-system 
is  the  four-beat  system;  cf.  Max  Kaluza,  Der  altenglische  vers; 
eine  metrische  untersuchung,  Berlin,  1894. 

2—  Gummere,  Old  English  Ballads,  Ginn  &  Co.,  1903,  p.  304. 
\f  "All  our  ballads  employ  rime  in  its  modern  sense    .    .    .  (see 

Schipper,  English  Meter,  11.  83  f.,  309  f.).  Indeed,  rime  marks 
nearly  all  ballad -poetry  known  to  us,  Germanic,  Celtic,  and  Eo- 
mance  (Wolf,  Lais,  p.  162)  :  for  the  regular  assonance  in  place  of 
rime,  found  in  Spanish  ballads,  is  not  original,  but  was  once  a 
matter  of  chance,  as  in  English,  becoming  normal  in  the  16th  cen- 
tury; Wolf,  Eomanzenpoesie  d.  Spanier,  Wiener  Jahrbuch  CXVII, 
112  f.,  121." 

3—  Gummere,  O.  E.  Ballads,  p.  303.  ''The  prevailing  view 
that  the  metrical  scheme  came  from  the  Latin  hymns  of  the  church, 
and  the  irregularities  of  practice  from  influence  of  older  native 
verse  (Brandl) ;  but  there  are  difficulties  even  in  this  simple 
assumption.  For  example,  the  septenarius  was  not  used  in  Eng- 
land until  the  twelfth  century,  and  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that 
England  had  no  ballad  until  that  date.  In  what  meter  were  the 
earlier  ballads?  Miillenhoff,  Sag  en,  Lieder,  u.  s.  w.,  p.  XIII,  says 
that  in  Germany  the  old  alliterative  verse  died  a  natural  death, 
so  that  in  the  course  of  the  tenth  century  popular  poetry  had  to 
take  up  rime.  In  England,  however,  alliterative  poetry  was  not  at 
all  dead  when  the  ballad  meter  began.  There  is  a  possibility  that 
these  popular  meters,  like  the  refrain,  which  came  out  of  the 
church  to  the  people,  had  previously  gone  out  of  the  people  into 
the  church;  and  we  may  thus  think  of  a  continuity  in  meter  from 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


43 


most  cases  there  is  a  question  of  imitation;  it  is  the 
religious  that  has  made  use  of  the  secular.  Not  only  is 
that  true  of  the  imagery  but  also  of  the  actual  verse 
form,  and  it  holds  good  for  almost  any  century  from 
the  Middle  Ages  to  the  present  day.1 

It  is  not  impossible  to  assume  that  rime  is  as  primi- 
tive as  alliteration.2    The  metrics  of  the  ballads  cannot 

older  ballads:  see  Luick  in  Paul's  Grundriss,  11.  1,  997.  The 
stanza  certainly  seems  a  necessity  in  ballads,  and  hence  we  are 
not  to  look  to  the  older  recited  and  continuous  verse  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  records.  We  have  seen  that  there  is  the  same  metrical 
gap  in  the  case  of  Scandinavian  ballads  and  the  older  poetry; 
Steenstrup,  Fore  Folkeviser,  p.  123  f.,  322,  and  Lundell  in  Paul's 
Grundriss,  11.  i,  728  f. "  It  may  be  added  that  the  typical  early 
religious  song  is  the  carol,  fairly  popular  at  times  in  tone  and 
content,  and  the  typical  carol  stanza  differs  entirely  from  the 
ballad  stanzas.  It  is  an  aaab  form.  Prof.  Padelford,  (Canv 
bridge  Hist,  of  English  Literature,  vol.  II,  chap.  XVI,  p.  378, 
429, )  suggests :  "  It  may  be  that  carols  were  written  to  divert 
interest  from  those  pagan  songs  with  their  wild  dances,  which 
even  as  late  as  the  15th  century  made  Christmas  a  trying  and! 
dangerous  period  for  the  church.  Certainly,  the  folk-song  element 
in  carols  suggests  the  probability  that  at  one  time  they  were 
accompanied  by  dancing." 

1 —  This  is  a  bold  statement,  but  I  believe  not  without  justifica- 
tion. For  the  Middle  Ages  much  material  may  be  found  in  Prof. 
Schofield's  English  Literature  from  the  Norman  Conquest  to 
Chaucer,  1906;  cf.  the  transformation  of  the  Graal  cycle  from  the 
secular  to  the  romance  religious;  cf.  the  chapter  on  Songs  and 
Lyrics,  chapter  X,  p.  434  f .  The  beginnings  of  two  religious  songs- 
of  the  early  14th  century  are  quoted  in  th^«  thesis,  chapter  2,  pp. 
69-70.  For  the  16th  century  compare  the  Gude  and  Godly  Ballads, 
treated  in  chapter  V;  they  afford  numerous  examples.  In  the  18th 
century,  Charles  Wesley 's  ' '  Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul,  Let  me  to 
thy  bosom  fly,"  had  been  frequently  changed  because  editors 
thought  imagery  unbecoming.  But  in  the  19th  century  it  is  well 
known  that  the  Salvation  Army  has  made  secular  music  the  basis 
of  many  of  their  religious  songs. 

2 —  F.  Kluge,  Zur  GeschicMe  des  Beimes  in  Altgermanischeny 
Paul  u.  Brannis  Beitrage  IX,  422,  presents  much  material  showing 
evidences  of  a  feeling  for  rime  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  period.  A 
great  part,  however,  is  not  rime  in  the  modern  sense,  and  really 
not  a  structural  element,  but  merely  ornamental,  as  alliteration  is 
now  with  us.  It  hardly  seems  that  if  there  was  an  Anglo-Saxon 
ballad,  it  had  the  same  kind  of  rime  as  that  found  in  what  we 
know  as  the  traditional  ballad. 


44 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


compare  in  intricacy  with  the  metrics  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  verse  that  has  come  down  to  us.  Of  course  civ- 
ilization did  not  begin  with  written  history,  and  in  the 
long  dawn  before  our  records  there  was  plenty  of  time 
for  many  styles  of  verse  form  to  have  been  tried.  The 
ballad  meter  may  have  been  one  of  them,  long  since 
abandoned  by  the  cultured  and  the  learned.  I  say  this 
is  not  impossible,  but  it  is  all  conjecture.  Neither  rime 
nor  a  stanza  form  is  standard  at  any  time  in  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  period.  On  the  contrary,  there  was  a  very  elab 
orate  and  a  very  stereotyped  system  of  alliterative 
verse  all  along  in  vogue.  Rime  did  occasionally  ap- 
pear,1 but  it  is  always  something  unusual,  worthy  of 
remark  each  time  when  found. 

Many  of  the  best  ballads,  also,  are  in  the  four- 
stressed  couplet.  Something  approaching  this  form  is 
likewise  found  occasionally  in  late  Anglo-Saxon  litera- 
ture, but  it  is  clearly  not  standard.  As  in  the  case  of 
rime,  its  introduction  is  ascribed  to  the  church.  Traut- 
mann,2  in  an  article  on  four-stressed  verse  in  Anglo- 
Saxon  poetry,  enumerates  several  poems  dating  from 
the  time  of  Alfric  and  later,  that  employ  this  four-beat 
verse,  some  with  rime  and  some  without.  In  some  of 
these  pieces  alliteration  plays  no  functional  part, — that 
is,  it  appears  to  be  accidental;  it  does  not  join  lines 
together.  It  is,  indeed,  no  more  prominent  than  in 
some  of  the  traditional  ballads,8  and  not  nearly  so 

1 —  F.  Kluge,  Zur  Geschichte  des  Beimes  in  Altgermanischen, 
P.  B.  B.,  IX,  422,  gives  references  to  considerable  material;  cf. 
also  the  poem  in  the  Laud  MS.  of  the  Chronicle,  year  1086;  also 
MS.  C.  year  1036,  etc. 

2—  Anglia,  vol.  VII.  Anzeiger,  pp.  211  f.  1884. 

3 —  Compare  the  material  in  ballads  suggested  by  Gummere,  (O. 
E.  Ballads,  p.  305,)  with  the  poems  quoted  by  Trautmann,  or 
with  such  a  poem  as  the  following,  under  the  year  1086,  Anglo- 
Saxon  Chronicle: 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


45 


prominent  as  in  some  modern  verse.1  Now  this  is  true 
of  some  of  the  earliest  four-stressed  verse  we  can  find 
in  English.  It  stands  entirely  apart  from  the  allitera- 
tive meter.  Where  did  it  come  from?  Is  it  a  new 
verse  form  that  domesticated  itself  with  great  rapidity 
and  very  early  got  possession  of  the  traditional  poetry 
of  the  song  and  dance?  If  so,  what  was  the  dancing 
meter  before  its  advent?  Surely  the  alliterative  verse 
with  its  irregularly  compounded  types,  does  not  seem 
ideally  suited  to  dance  rhythm.  Or  is  the  four-stressed 
verse  a  traditional  survival  just  as  the  ballad  technique 
is  supposed  to  be  ?  I  make  no  attempt  to  answer.  All 
this  is  in  the  realm  of  conjecture,  and  it  has  been 
brought  in  only  to  show  how  obscure  and  how  difficult 
are  many  of  the  problems  of  early  balladry. 

The  Anglo-Saxons  were  not  a  primitive  people,  and 
if  they  possessed  the  ballad,  they  did  not  esteem  it 
enough  to  make  it  a  part  of  their  literary  records.  Yet 
they  have  left  us  much  poetry,  some  of  it  secular,  much 
traditional,  and  in  one  sense  most  of  it  popular.  It  is 
unfortunate  that  the  term  popularity  has  several  mean- 
ings open  to  confusion.  Surely  none  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  poetry  is  popular  in  the  sense  of  origin.  It  is 
all  derived  from  the  higher  social  orders,  the  largest 
part  from  the  monastic.    It  would  not  be  safe  to 

"Castelas  he  [William]  let  wyrcean 

Tearme  men  swide  sweneean 

Se  cyng  woes  swa  swide  stearc 

Thenam  of  his  undespeodan  man 
:  manig  mare  goldis  [corrupt  reading] 

Tma  hundred  punda  seolfres, 

[pet  he  nam  he  wrihte]  mid  mycelan  imrihte 

of  his  land  leode,  por  litte[l]re  neode,"  etc. 

1 — Compare  Swinburne's  Chorus  from  the  Atalanta  in  Calydon, 
beginning 

"When  the  hounds  of  spring  are  on  winter's  traces 
The  mother  of  months  in  meadow  or  plain." 


46 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ascribe  any  of  it  to  communal  authorship.  But  much 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  that  we  have  was  no  doubt 
once  very  popular  in  the  sense  that  it  was  widely 
Imown1  and  probably  current  in  several  versions.  This 
is  reasonable  to  suppose  from  the  fact  that  so  much  of 
our  verse  from  that  period  has  reached  us  in  a  dialect 
different  from  that  in  which  it  was  written  and  in 
manuscripts  much  later  than  the  age  in  which  the 
poems  were  presumably  composed.  That  much  of  this 
poetry  was  traditional  also,  can  hardly  be  doubted. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  suppose  that  for  the  Beowulf 
material, — for  the  actual  Widsith,  and  for  other  verse. 
Widsith  is  especially  interesting  in  this  connection,  for 
not  only  is  it  reckoned  by  many  as  our  earliest  Anglo- 
Saxon  poem,2  but  it  is  thoroughly  professional.  Pro- 
fessor Gummere  somewhere  happily  calls  it  "  journal- 
istic. ' '  Widsith  seems  to  have  been  a  traditional  min- 
strel poem  that  was  a  part  of  the  stock  in  trade  through 
several  generations.  It  shows  us  that  professionalism 
in  English  literature  was  a  well-established  fact  from 
the  earliest  recorded  times.  That  is  something  to  be 
remembered  in  our  later  treatment. 

It  is  a  caution  especially  to  be  borne  in  mind  for  the 
whole  Middle  English  period.  There  we  are  troubled 
with  the  same  difficulty  in  obtaining  substantial  facts 
about  English  balladry.  But  our  troubles  are  increased 
by  the  fact  that  medieval  chroniclers  often  confess  that 
they  have  been  making  use  of  popular  songs  for  vari- 
ous parts  of  their  narrative.    But  what  kind  of  popu- 

1 —  In  this  second  sense  the  Child  ballad  has  not  been  so  popular 
— that  is,  at  no  historic  period,  unless  it  be  the  last  century  or 
two,  has  it  been  the  special  favorite  of  all  classes  of  people. 

2 —  Stopford  A.  Brooke,  Chambers's  Cyclopaedia  of  English 
Literature,  I,  p.  4.  "  Complaint  of  Deor 9 '  is  also  mentioned  by  R. 
Garnett,  English  Literature,  An  Illustrated  Record,  vol.  I,  p.  8. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


47 


lar  songs?  we  have  a  right  to  ask.  Minstrel  ballads,  or 
ballads  like  those  found  in  Professor  Child's  Collec- 
tion? It  is  not  safe  to  judge  from  the  subject-matter, 
nor  may  we  take  the  chronicler's  own  word  for  it. 
They  did  not  classify  songs  according  to  poetic  origins 
in  those  days,  and  minstrel  and  communal  ballads 
would  have  been  alike  to  them.  With  professionalism 
all  along  prominent,  only  the  actual  possession  of  a 
song  can  enable  us  to  say  whether  or  not  it  is  of  the 
Child  type.1 

"We  may  best  illustrate  our  remarks  by  recourse  to 
William  of  Malmesbury.  What  could  be  more  explicit 
than  the  latter 's  statement  near  the  end  of  his  account 
of  Athelstan?2  ' ' Thus  far  relating  to  the  king,"  he 
says,  "I  have  written  from  authentic  testimony:  that 
which  follows  I  have  learned  more  from  old  ballads, 
popular  through  succeeding  times,  than  from  books 
written  expressly  for  the  information  of  posterity.  I 
have  subjoined  them,  not  to  defend  their  veracity,  but 
to  put  my  reader  in  possession  of  all  that  I  know.  'J 
Admirable  caution  we  may  exclaim,  just  the  attitude  an 
historian  would  naturally  take  in  dealing  with  ballad 
material;  but  would  not  the  attitude  be  equally  natural 
in  dealing  with  songs  of  minstrelsy?  At  least  the 
material  that  follows  gives  us  no  decisive  answer.  Some 
of  it  may  conceivably  have  been  taken  from  ballads  of 
the  Child  type.    The  account  of  the  birth  of  Athelstan, 

1 —  Professor  Gummere  emphasizes  this  point  often  in  his  Popu- 
lar Ballad.    He  mentions  William  of  Malmesbury. 

2 —  Lib.  II,  §138,  Gesta  Kegum  Anglorum,  Ed.  by  T.  D.  Hardy, 
1840,  p.  222.  Bt  haee  quidem  fide  integra  de  rege-conscripsi : 
sequentia  magis  cantilensis  per  successiones  temporum  detritis, 
quam  libris  ad  instruetiones  posteriorum  elucubratis,  didicerim. 
Quae  ides  opposui,  non  ut  earum  veritatem  defendam,  sed  ne 
leetorum  scientiam  defraudem.  The  translation  above  is  the  Eev. 
John  Sharpens,  Lond.  1815,  p.  160. 


48 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


for  example,  is  near  enough  to  the  miraculous  to  sug- 
gest borrowings  from  folk-lore.  But  if  Malmesbury 
did  obtain  this  story  from  a  ballad  of  the  Child  type, 
he  must  have  touched  up  his  material  considerably. 
As  it  now  reads  it  is  much  too  circumstantial:  it 
resembles  a  tale  more  than  a  ballad.1 

William,  of  Malmesbury  has  several  other  specific 
references  to  ballads,2  but  nothing  that  is  at  all  decisive 
in  showing  the  actual  form  of  the  material  from  which 
he  was  drawing.  He  also  relates  stories  with  plots 
at  least  suggestive  of  ballads  in  the  Child  Collection. 
The  first  impulse  in  any  such  case  is  to  assign  the  mate- 
rial to  ballad  origin.  But  that  is  always  hazardous. 
Identity  of  subject-matter  creates  no  presumption  of 
identity  of  form.  The  fiction  which  Malmesbury  tells 
of  Gunhild,3  daughter  of  Cnut  and  wife  of  the  Emperor 
Henry  III,  parallels  in  some  essentials  the  story  on  the 


1—  Lib.  II,  139,  Hardy  222. 

2 —  With  reference  to  Edgar  after  telling  how  he  favored 
foreigners  (Hardy,  p.  236,  §148):  "Inde  merito  jureque  culpant 
eum  literae;  nam  caeteras  infamias,  quas  post  dicam,  magis 
resperserunt  eantilenae  Sed  Arturis  sepulchrum  unsquam  visitur, 
unde  antiquitas  noeniarum  adhuc  eum  venturum  fabulatur. "  But 
minstrel  prophecies  were  not  uncommon  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

3—  Gesta  Eegum  Anglorum,  ed.  T.  D.  Hardy,  1840,  Lib.  II, 
§188,  vol.  I,  pp.  321-2.  Caeterum,  ut  dicere  coeperam,  Hardecnutes 
Gunhildam  sororem  suam,  Cnutonis  ex  Emma  filiam,  spectatissimae 
speciei  puellam,  a  multis  procis  tempore  patris  suspiratam,  nec 
impetratam,  Henrico  imperatori  Alemannorum  nuptum  misit- 
Celebris  ilia  pompa  nuptialis  fuit,  et  nostro  adhuc  seculo  etiam  in 
triviis  cantitata,  dum  tanti  nominis  virgo  ad  navem  duceretur; 
stipantibus  omnibus  Angliae  proceribus,  et  in  expensas  confer- 
entibus  quicquid  absconderat  vel  morsupium  publicum  vel 
serarium  regium.  Ita  ad  sponsum  perveniens,  multo  tempore  f  oedus 
conjugate  fovit:  postremo,  adulterii  accusata,  puerulum  quendam 
sturni  sui  alummun,  quern  secum  ex  Anglia  duxerat,  delatori, 
giganteae  molis  honimi,  ad  monomachiam  apposuit,  caeteris  clien- 
tibus  inerti  timore  refugientibus.  Itaque,  conserto  duello,  per 
miraculum  Dei  insimulator  succiso  poplite  enervatur. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


49 


popular  ballad  of  Sir  Aldingar.1  If  similarity  of  plot 
indicated  anything  about  the  form,  we  should  have  a 
perfect  right  to  say  with  Professor  Child  that  here 
"William  is  citing  a  ballad."  But  the  danger  of  so 
concluding  is  apparent  from  another  statement  that 
Professor  Child  himself  made  shortly  before  this  last 
one:  "Tales  of  the  same  general  description  as  Sir 
Aldingar  are  extremely  often  to  be  met  with  in  ballad, 
romance,  chronicle,  and  saga."  Under  such  conditions 
the  nature  of  the  subject-matter  shows  nothing.  Pro- 
fessor Gummere,2  further  to  emphasize  the  point  for  his 
specific  passage  in  Malmesbury,  adds:  "We  hear  in  the 
fourteenth  century  of  such  a  ballad   (that  is,  with 


1 —  Child  Collection,  No.  59.  The  remarks  of  Professor  Child 
about  Gunhild  are  to  be  found  in  the  introduction  to  this  ballad. 

2 —  The  Popular  Ballad,  1907,  pp.  53,  54.  Gummere  refers  to 
Warton,  History  of  English  Poetry,  ed.  1840,  pp.  81,  '82.  I  do 
not  know  where  he  gets  his  statement  about  the  spectators  praying 
for  the  queen.  Hazlitt's  edition  of  Warton,  1871,  11.  96-97,  which 
I  used,  does  not  seem  to  contain  it.  The  statement  there  is:  "It 
was  not  deemed  an  occurrence  unworthy  to  be  recorded  that  when 
Adam  de  Orleton,  bishop  of  Winchester,  visited  his  cathedral 
priory  of  Saint  Swithin  in  that  city,  a  minstrel  named  Herbert 
was  introduced  who  sang  the  Song  of  Colbrand,  a  Danish  giant, 
and  the  tale  of  Queen  Emma,  delivered  from  the  ploughshares,  in 
the  hall  of  the  prior  Alexander  de  Herriard,  in  the  year  1338." 
There  is  then  quoted  the  Latin  for  the  last  part  of  the  statement 
from  the  register  of  the  priory.  A  note  adds :  ' '  These  were  local 
stories.  Guy  fought  and  conquered  Colbrand,  a  Danish  champion, 
just  without  the  northern  walls  of  the  city  of  Winchester,  in  a 
meadow,  to  this  day  called  Danemorch:  and  Colbrand 's  battle-axe 
was  kept  in  the  treasury  of  St.  Swithin 's  priory  till  the  Dissolution. 
.  .  .  This  history  remained  in  rude  paintings  against  the  walls 
of  the  north  transept  of  the  cathedral  till  within  my  memory. 
Queen  Emma  was  a  patroness  of  this  church,  in  which  she  under- 
went the  trial  of  walking  blindfold  over  nine  red-hot  plough- 
shares. ' y  Professor  Gummere  7s  guess  that  the  ' '  Deu  vous  saue, 
dam  Emme!"  of  Piers  Plowman  (A  text,  Skeat,  1.  103)  seems  to 
me  to  have  a  fair  chance  of  being  true.  Skeat  in  a  note  to  the 
line  makes  it — "Evidently  the  refrain  of  some  low  popular  song," 
and  suggests  a  connection  with  the  ' '  shordyche  dame  emme,  • '  men- 
tioned in  the  B  text,  XIII,  1.  340.  I  think  there  is  small  likeli- 
hood that  Skeat  is  right. 


50 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


similar  material  to  the  Gunhild)  in  professional  hands. 
In  1338  the  prior  of  St.  Swithin's  at  Winchester  en- 
tertained his  bishop  by  letting  a  minstrel,  jeculator, 
sing  in  hall  the  ballad  of  Emma,  Gunhild 's  mother, 
who  triumphed  in  her  ordeal  for  adultery.  During  the 
progress  of  this  ordeal  the  spectators  are  represented 
as  praying  for  the  queen  and  exhorting  her  to  be  firm. 
A  refrain,  Dieu  vous  save,  Dame  Emma,  seems  to  be- 
long to  a  version  of  this  ballad  and  was  sung  by  the 
common  laborer  in  the  days  of  'Piers  Plowman.'  "  "If 
we  had  no  better  evidence,"  concludes  Gummere,  "we 
should  be  tempted  to  hand  over  'Sir  Aldingar'  to 
Herbert  the  minstrel." 

All  this  is  illuminating  negatively,  for  the  Middle 
English  period.  It  shows  us  how  helpless  we  are  in 
arriving  at  any  safe  generalizations  because  of  our  lack 
of  material.1  Professor  Gummere  —  it  seems  as  if  I 
have  to  quote  his  name  almost  constantly  for  this  early 
work  — thinks  that  the  so-called  Cnut's  Ballad  is  the 
first  glimpse  of  actual  ballad  structure,  which  is  to  be 
met  with  in  English  records.2  That  is  a  fragment  of 
four  lines  quoted  in  a  Latin  Historia  Eliensis.3  This 


1 —  Professor  Gummere  suggests  considerable  other  material 
equally  inconclusive,  as  he  shows.  He  mentions,  for  instance, 
Henry  of  Huntington's  account  of  the  battle  of  Brunanburh  and 
shows  it  is  founded  on  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle.  Henry's  own 
words  of  introduction,  however,  would  be  sufficient  to  show  that 
he  was  not  using  a  ballad  of  the  strictly  popular  type.  Fabyan's 
account  of  the  songs  that  were  made  after  Bannockburn  ' 1  in 
daunces,  in  the  carols  of  the  maidens  and  minstrels  of  Scotland, ' ' 
is  damaged  not  so  much  by  the  collocation  .  .  .  as  by  the  speci- 
men of  the  verse  itself  (see  p.  55).  Gummere  might  have  added 
the  bits  of  English  song  found  in  Langtoft's  Chronicle.  (See 
Wright,  Political  Songs,  pp.  286,  293,  295.)  They  are  examples 
of  toiled  rime  in  the  flytting  type ;  not  like  the  ballad  in  the  least. 

2—  Popular  Ballad,  pp.  58  f. 

3 —  II,  27,  Gale,  "Historiae  Britannicae  .  .  .  scriptores  XV, 
1691,  vol.  I,  p.  505. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


51 


chronicle  is  a  work,  according  to  its  editor  Gale,  by 
Thomas  of  Ely,  who  lived  and  wrote  in  the  second  half 
of  the  12th  century.  "Cnut,  with  his  queen  Emma  and 
divers  of  the  great  nobles,  was  coming  by  boat  to  Ely ; 
and,  as  they  neared  land,  the  king  stood  up,  and  told 
his  men  to  row  slowly  while  he  looked  at  the  great 
church  and  listened  to  the  song  of  the  monks  which 
came  sweetly  over  the  water.  Then  he  called  all  who 
were  with  him  in  the  boats  to  make  a  circle  about  him, 
and  in  the  gladness  of  his  heart  he  bade  them  join  him 
in  song,  and  he  composed  in  English  a  ballad  which  be- 
gins as  follows : — 

Merie  sungen  the  Muneches  binnen  Ely, 
Tha  Cnut  ching  rew  ther  by. 
'Roweth,  cnihtes,  noer  the  land, 
And  here  we  thes  muneches  sang." 

ELIENSIS. 

Quo  dam  vero  tempore,  cum  idem  Eex  Canutus  ad  Ely  navigio 
tenderet,  comitante  ilium  Eegina  sua  Emma,  &  optimatibus  regni, 
volens  illic  juxta  morem  purificationem  Sanctae  Maria?  solemniter 
agere,  quando  Abbates  Ely  suo  ordine  incipientes  ministrationem 
in  Eegis  curia  habere  solent,  &  dum  terras  approximarent,  Eex  in 
medio  virorum  erigens  se,  nautis  innuit  ad  portum  Pussilum  ocius 
tendre,  &  tardius  navem  in  eundo  pertrahere  jubet,  ipse  oculos  in 
altum  contra  Ecelesiam,  quae  haud  prope  eminet  in  ipso  Eupis 
vertice  sita,  vocem  undique  dulcedinis  resonare  sensit,  &  erectis 
auribus  quo  magis  accederet  amplius  melodiam  haurire  coepit; 
percepit  namque  hoc  esse  Monachos  in  ccenobio  psallentes,  &  clare 
divinas  horas  modulantes,  caeteros  qui  aderant  in  navibus  per 
circuitum  ad  se  venire,  &  secum  jubilando  canere  exhortabatur, 
ipsemet  ore  proprio  jocunditatem  cordis  exprimens,  cantilenam  his 
verbis  Anglice  composuit,  dicens,  cujus  exordium  sic  continetur .  . . 

Quod  latine  sonat,  Dulce  cantaverunt  Monachi  in  Ely,  dum 
Canutus  Eex  navigaret  prope  %bi,  nunc  milites  navigate  propius 
ad  terram,  simul  audiamus  Monachorum  harmoniam,  caetera 
quae  sequuntur,  quae  usque  hodie  in  choris  publice  cantantur;  &  in 
proverbiis  memorantur.  Hoc  Eex  agitans,  non  quievit  cum  ven- 
erabili  collegio  pie  ac  dulciter  concinere,  donee  pervenit  ad  terram, 
&  quando  cum  processione,  ut  mos  est  principem  aut  celsiorem 
personam,  a  fratribus  digne  susceptus  in  Ecclesia  duceretur;  mox 
bona  praedecessoribus  suis  Anglorum  Eegibus  Ecelesiae  collata, 
suo  privilegio  &  auctoritate  ad  perpetuam  munivit  firmitatem,  & 
desuper  altare  majus,  ubi  corpus  sacre  virginis  ac  sponsae  Christi 


52 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


JEdeldredae  pausat  in  sepulchro,  in  faciem  Ecclesias  coram  uni- 
versis  jura  loci  perpetuo  libera  esse  sancivit.  Ad  hanc  igitur 
solemnitatem  ipsum  Regem  aliquotiens  prae  nimio  gelu  &  glacie 
inibi  contigit  non  posse  pervenire,  usque  paludibus  &  aquis  gelatis, 
sed  sic  a  bonitatis  suae  studio  Rex  non  mutatur,  licet  nimium 
gemens  &  anxius  fuisset,  in  Domino  Deo  confisus,  super  mare  de 
Saham,  cum  non  cessaret  vehemens  pruina,  usque  in  Ely  trahere 
se  in  veliiculo  desuper  glaeiem  cogitavit,  sed,  siquis  eum  pragcederet, 
securius  &  minus  pavide  esperum  iter  perficere,  nec  differre 
asseruit,  casu  enim  astitit  ibi  vir  magnus  &  incompositus  ex  insula 
quidam  Brihtmerus  Budde,  pro  densitate  sic  cognominatus,  in 
multitudine  &  ante  Regem  se  progredi  spopondit.  Nec  mora,  Rex 
festinus  in  veliiculo  secutus  est,  admirantibus  cunctis,  ilium 
tantam  audatiam  praesumpsisse.  Quo  perveniens  cum  gaudio 
solemnitatem  ex  more  illic  celebravit.  Nam  sicut  in  Sapientia 
legitur,  fortis  est  ut  mors  dilectio,  N  dilectio  custodia  legum  est, 
in  sola  dilectione  ac  devotione  Cnristi  virginis  JEdeldredae  Rex 
gloriosus  nitebatur,  &  completur  in  eo  illud  Dominicum,  omnia 
possibilia  credenti.  Ad  gloriam  bae  tae  virginis  narrare  con- 
sueverat  Rex  sibi  a  Domino  concessum  fuisse,  quod  tarn  magnus 
Rusticus  &  incompositus  per  viam  nullum  offendiculum  senserat, 
ut  &  ipse  agilis,  &  mediocris  staturae,  directe  &  intrepide  subsequi 
licuisset,  Rex  namque  liberalis  animi  atque  munificus,  laborem  viri 
rependere  volens,  ipsum  cum  possessione  sua  aeternae  libertati 
donavit,  unde  filii  filiorum  ejus  usque  ad  diem  hanc  quieti  con- 
sistunt. 

The  chronicler  turns  this  into  Latin,  saying  then,  with 
unmistakable  reference  to  popular  tradition,  "and  so 
the  rest,  as  it  is  sung  in  these  days  by  the  people  in 
their  dances,  and  handed  down  as  proverbial."1 

Possibly  this  is  a  ballad  of  the  Child  type.  Yet  even 
this  fragment  offers  us  nothing  conclusive.  In  fact,  to 
my  mind  it  leaves  the  Middle  English  ballad  ques- 
tion more  in  doubt  than  ever.  If  we  are  to  trust  the 
chronicler  we  have  here  a  king  composing  a  ballad, 
under  choral  conditions,  to  be  sure,  but  not  in  the  dance. 
Furthermore,  the  king  is  a  foreigner.  Does  that  affect 
the  status  of  the  "ballad"?    Prof.  Gummere  thinks2 

1 —  The  English  quoted  is  the  condensed  paraphrase  of  Prof. 
Gummere,  Popular  Ballads,  pp.  58-59. 

2 —  Ditto,  p.  60.  Grundtvig's  view  I  have  taken  from  Gummere, 
because  I  do  not  read  Danish.  Grundtvig's  own  statement  (I 
owe  the  reference  to  Prof.  Kittredge)  is  found  in  vol.  Ill  of  his 
Dan  marks  Gamle  Folk  wiser,  p.  IX  f. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


53 


Grundtvig  has  shown  that  the  four  quoted  lines  are 
very  probably  the  burden  or  chorus  of  the  song  itself, 
which  may  have  carried  them  throughout,  along  with 
the  improvised  narrative  verses  which  followed,  or  else 
let  them  alternate  as  full  chorus  after  each  new  stanza. 
Grundtvig  supports  his  opinion  by  many  similar  cases 
from  old  Scandinavian  tradition.  He  thinks  the  miss- 
ing verses  were  probably  epic,  and  told  of  Cnut's  con- 
quest,— a  chronicle-ballad  in  the  grand  style.  I  must 
confess  that  these  conjectures  seem  very  dubious.  The 
story  of  the  origin  of  the  song  must  be  taken  with  a 
grain  of  salt,  and  Professor  Gummere  is  entirely  will- 
ing to  grant  that.  He  holds,  however,  that  the  account 
presents  "a  true  process  if  not  a  true  fact,  for  it  was 
evidently  a  method  of  poetical  composition  which  ex- 
cited no  comment  and  was  familiar  to  the  twelfth- 
century  writer  of  the  chronicle."  That  may  be  true, 
and  let  it  be  granted:  what  follows?  We  have  no  hint 
of  popular  or  communal  authorship.  Our  throng  is  a 
group  of  nobles,  and  the  ballad  is  all  composed  by  a 
single  individual — the  greatest  man  present.  The 
passage  might  as  conceivably  be  held  to  support  the  in- 
dividual authorship  theory:  it  was  only  the  great  man 
who  would  compose  the  ballad.  Furthermore,  what 
hinders  us  from  supposing  that  this  method  of  com- 
position was  also  used  by  the  minstrel?  In  fact, 
granted  poetic  improvisation,  what  method  could  be 
more  natural  for  composing  a  song!  And  yet  what 
was  this  method?  The  description  of  the  part  played 
by  the  throng  is  so  vague  we  can  only  surmise.  Do 
we  have  quoted  the  beginning  of  the  ballad  proper,  or 
only  the  refrain  ?  If  Grundtvig  is  right,  and  the  words 
are  all  refrain,  we  have  not  here  a  characteristic  Eng- 
lish ballad.    There  is  too  much  meaning  in  the  words ; 


54 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


and  besides,  the  refrain  is  longer  than  it  ought  to  be.1 
But  next,  what  is  there  in  the  lines  quoted  or  in  the 
setting  to  suggest  that  this  is  a  chronicle-ballad  of  the 
grand  style?  I  must  confess  I  see  nothing.  Cnut  and 
his  company  were  visiting  Ely  for  religious  purposes. 
He  hears  the  monks  singing  sweetly  and  merrily.  Are 
these  conditions  likely  to  bring  forth  a  song  of  per- 
sonal triumph?  Possibly,  though  not  even  a  hint  that 
the  song  was  narrative  can  be  obtained  from  the  lines 
actually  transmitted  to  us.  For  my  own  part  I  must 
confess  myself  utterly  in  the  dark  as  to  the  nature  of 
the  rest  of  the  song.  Nor  do  I  get  much  light  from 
the  verse  form  used  in  the  poem.  I  am  not  quite  sure 
of  the  meaning  to  attach  to  Professor  Gummere 's  state- 
ment that  "here  for  the  first  time  occurs  the  two4ine 
stanza."2  Presumably  he  means  the  first  time  in  a 
piece  actually  described  as  a  dance,  for  sporadic  rimed 
couplets  are  to  be  found  as  early  as  the  time  of  Alfric,3 
and  the  division  of  the  fragment  into  stanzas  is  of 
course  the  work  of  the  modern  editor.  As  for  the  bal- 
lad style,  which  Professor  Gummere  also  ascribes  to 
this  piece,  that  too  does  not  impress  me.    Perhaps  if 


1 —  I  do  not  recall  any  English  ballad  with  a  refrain  similar. 
Surely  the  four-line  refrain  in  the  Twa  Magicians  (Child,  No.  44) 
is  entirely  different.  Also  that  in  Captain  Car  (No.  178,  A)  has 
but  one  idea  with  much  repetition. 

2—  Popular  Ballad,  p.  60. 

3 —  See  chapter  2,  p.  44  (this  thesis).  In  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Chronicle  under  the  year  1075  (1076)  there  is  a  couplet  which, 
joined  with  the  context,  is  suggestive  of  song.  "The  king  gave  the 
daughter  of  William  Fitz-Osberne  in  marriage  to  earl  Ealph: 

'  There  was  that  bride-ale 
The  source  of  man's  bale.' 

For  earl  Eoger  and  earl  Waltheof  were  there,  and  bishops,  and 
abbots,  and  they  took  counsel  to  depose  the  king  of  England.'' 
Then  follows  the  account  of  the  ill-success  of  the  conspiracy. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


55 


one  could  be  sure  what  the  lines  were  trying  to  do,  the 
case  would  be  different.  As  it  is,  it  is  only  the  words  of 
the  chronicler  that  it  was  sung  usque  hodie  in  choris 
publice  that  make  us  suspect  any  connection  with  the 
Child  type  of  ballad.  And  even  with  these  words  I  am 
very  doubtful  whether  it  was  a  narrative  song.  The 
chronicler  speaks  of  the  piece  as  proverbial. 

The  first  ballad  of  whose  form  anyone  has  a  right  to 
feel  sure  is  the  "Judas"  printed  as  No.  23  in  Professor 
Child's  collection.  This  we  have  perhaps  in  its  entire- 
ty. It  is  found  in  the  13th-century  manuscript  belong- 
ing to  the  library  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge  (MS. 
B  14,  39).  The  piece  is  unique  in  several  particulars. 
In  date  it  stands  absolutely  apart  from  all  other  bal- 
lads. Nothing  else  so  ballad-like  is  to  be  found  for 
upwards  of  two  centuries.  The  historical  interest  of 
the  poem  is  therefore  considerable.  If  its  claims  are 
accepted  it  helps  us  carry  the  Child  type  of  ballad  back 
deep  into  the  Middle  Ages.  The  intrinsic  merits  of  the 
piece  too  are  not  to  be  despised, — so  that  taking  it  all 
in  all,  this  earliest  preserved  ballad  deserves  and  well 
repays  very  careful  study.    It  reads  as  follows: 

Hit  wes  upon  a  Scereporsday  pat  vre  louerd  aros: 

Ful  milde  were  pe  wordes  he  spec  to  Iudas. 

'Iudas,  pou  most  to  Iurselem,  oure  mete  for  to  bugge:. 

Pritti  platen  of  seluer  pou  bere  up  opi  rugge. ' 

'Pou  comest  fer  ipe  brode  stret,  fer  ipe  brode  strefer 

Summe  of  pine  tunesmen  per  pou  meist  i-mete. ' 

Imette  wid  is  soster,  pe  swikele  wimon : 

'  Iudas,  pou  were  wrepe  me  stende  pe  wid  ston;  ii 

For  pe  false  prophete  pat  pou  bileuest  upon. ' 

'Be  stille,  leue  soster,  pin  herte  pe  tobreke! 

Wiste  min  louerd  Crist,  ful  wel  he  wolde  be  wreke/ 

'Iudas,  go  pou  on  pe  roc,  heie  up-on  pe  ston; 

Lei  pin  heued  i  my  barm,  slep  pou  pe  anon/ 

Sone  so  Iudas  of  slepe  was  awake, 


56 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Pritti  platen  of  seluer  from  hym  weren  itake. 

He  drou  hym  selue  bi  pe  cop,  pat  al  it  lauede  ablode: 

Pe  Iewes  out  of  Iurselem  awenden  he  were  wode. 

Foret  hym  com  pe  riche  leu  pat  heiste  Pilatus; 

'Wolte  sulle  pi  louerd,  pat  hette  Iesus?' 

'I  nul  sulle  my  louerd  for  nones  cunnes  eiste, 

Bote  hit  be  for  pe  pritti  platen  pat  he  me  bi-taiste. ' 

'Wolte  sulle  pi  lord  Crist  for  enes  cunnes  golde?' 

'Nay,  bote  hit  be  for  pe  platen  pat  he  habben  wolcle.' 

In  him  com  ur  lord  gon,  as  is  postles  seten  at  mete : 

Ton  sitte  ye,  postles,  ant  wi  nule  ye  ete?  ii 

Ic  am  iboust  ant  isold  to  day  for  oure  mete. ' 

Vp  stod  him  Iudas :  '  Lord,  am  I  pat  [f rek]  ? 

I  nas  neuer  ope  stude,  per  me  pe  euel  spec' 

Vp  him  stod  Peter,  ant  spec  wid  al  his  miste, 

'Pau  Pilatus  him  come  wid  ten  hundred  cnistes. 

Yet  ic  wolde,  louerd,  for  pi  loue  fiste.' 

i  Still  pou  be,  Peter,  wel  I  pe  i-cnowe ; 

Pou  wolt  fur-sake  me  prien  ar  pe  coc  him  crowe. ' 

In  the  preceding  transcript  I  have  used  Professor 
Xittredge's  punctuation,1  but  have  followed  the  line 
■arrangement  of  the  original  manuscript.  There  the 
poem  is  printed  in  long  lines  and  without  stanza  divi- 
sion. After  lines  8,  25,  and  30,  the  manuscript  has  a 
mark,  ii.  At  each  of  these  places  there  stand  three 
lines  riming.  Professor  Skeat  has  thought  that  the 
mark  merely  signifies  "that  there  are  here  two  second 
lines."2  It  is  therefore  without  effect  upon  the  read- 
ing. This  interpretation  has  been  followed  by  Mr. 
Sidgwick  in  his  collection  of  "Popular  Ballads  of  the 


1 —  One-volume  edition  of  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads, 
Sargent  and  Kittredge,  1904,  p.  41. 

2 —  The  MS.  was  long  lost  from  the  library,  and  Professor  Child 
first  printed  the  piece  from  Wright  and  Hallrwell's  Reliquiae 
Antiquae,  1845,  v.  1,  p.  144.  On  the  MS.  being  recovered,  Pro- 
fessor Skeat  collated  the  piece  and  sent  his  copy  to  Professor 
Child,  adding  this  interpretation  by  way  of  note.  See  Child  Bal- 
lads, V,  p.  288. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


57 


Olden  Time,"1  where  he  prints  the  piece.  He  uses 
stanzas  of  two  lengths;  some  of  four,  and  some  of  six 
short  lines.  This  may  be  right.  Similar  structure  is 
found  frequently  in  other  ballads.2  In  the  one-volume 
edition  of  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads,  how- 
ever, Professor  Kittredge  has  offered  another  explana- 
tion, which  seems  more  likely  to  be  correct.3  It  is  that 
the  ii  "appears  to  indicate  that  this  line  is  to  be  re- 
peated. ...  It  will  be  observed  that  this  makes  the 
stanzas  regular  throughout."  This  repetition  has  been 
paralleled  on  a  small  scale  in  1.5,  and  in  each  case  it 
fits  the  idea  to  be  expressed  very  well.  But  I  cannot 
feel  that  this  is  any  naive  repetition.  To  me  it  seems 
like  an  artful  method  of  emphasis,  and  I  am  not  sure 
that  its  use  brings  the  piece  any  nearer  to  the  ballad 
type.  It  is  something  quite  different  from  what  is 
known  as  incremental  repetition. 

But  this  piece  is  unique  in  several  particulars.  Ac- 
cording to  Professor  Child,  this  ballad  is  isolated  in 
tradition  as  well  as  in  date.4  Nor  does  it  seem  to  pre- 
sent to  us  a  consistent  whole.  At  least  much  is  left 
obscure.  Professor  Child  points  out  that  the  passion- 
ate behaviour  of  Judas,  1.16,  goes  beyond  all  apparent 
occasion.  And  why  does  he  insist  to  Pilate  on  the 
very  thirty  pieces  he  had  lost,  rejecting  every  other 


1 —  F.  Sidgwick,  Popular  Ballads  of  the  Olden  Time,  1906  (?), 
second  series,  p.  147.  Saintsbury  also  accepts  this  interpretation, 
History  of  English  Prosody,  vol.  1,  p.  251  n.,  1906.  However,  he 
later  took  his  material  from  the  Eeliquae  Antiquae,  and  probably 
neither  Saintsbury  nor  Sidgwick  was  aware  of  Professor  Kit- 
tredge 's  interpretation. 

2 —  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,  Child  No.  162;  Eobyn  and  Gande- 
leyn,  No.  115.  These  are  both  early,  but  it  is  used  also  in  late 
ballads;  cf.  Fair  Annie,  No.  62,  A.  E.,  etc. 

3 —  Appendix,  one-volume  edition  of  English  and  Scottish  Popu- 
lar Ballads,  p.  644. 

4—  Child,  Ballads,  volume  1,  pp.  242-3. 


58 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


form  of  payment?  Professor  Child  suggests  indirectly 
that  perhaps  these  were  the  oft-used  fated  pieces 
destined  to  be  the  price  of  him  that  was  valued.  Per- 
sonally I  have  a  growing  impression  that  the  fifth  and 
sixth  lines  are  more  significant  than  has  hitherto  been 
pointed  out.  To  me  they  suggest  not  a  mere  state- 
ment of  fact,  as  Mr.  Sidgwick's  paraphrase  would  sug- 
gest,1 but  rather  a  warning  :  ' '  Thou  comest  far — very 
far — in  the  broad  street, — beware !  some  of  thy  towns- 
men there  thou  mayst  meet."  In  the  ballad  Christ  is 
not  the  all-forgiving  master,  as  is  shown  in  the  words 
of  Judas  to  his  sister.  And  it  may  be  because  he  had 
neglected  the  warning  that  Judas  is  so  beside  himself, 
and  it  may  then  be  to  cover  up  the  fact  that  he  is  so 
anxious  to  get  back  the  particular  thirty  pieces.2  That 
seems  to  me  the  simplest  solution. 

However,  uniqueness  in  tradition  and  such  obscuri- 
ties do  not  in  the  least  damage  the  status  of  this  piece 
as  a  ballad.  Indeed,  variance  with  facts  and  narra- 
tive confusion  are  conspicuous  characteristics  of  the 
type.3   But  what  can  be  said  of  the  form  of  this  poem? 


1 —  Beference  as  before. 

2 —  On  a  review  of  the  ballad  I  not  only  believe  more  thoroughly 
in  my  suggested  interpretation,  but  I  add  the  idea  that  the  thirty 
platen  were  plates  in  the  modern  sense.  They  were  not  pieces  of 
silver  to  give  in  exchange  for  food,  but  the  dishes  on  which  the 
food  was  to  be  brought  back.    Compare  the  lines : 

"Pritti  platen  of  seluer  pou  bere  up  opi  rugge. " 

"Bote  hit  be  for  pe  pritti  platen  pat  he  me  bi-taiste. " 

"Nay,  bote  hit  be  for  pe  platen  pat  he  habben  wolde. " 
In  Chambers  and  Sidgwick,  Early  English  Lyrics,  p.  142,  there  is 
a  poem  quoted  from  Balliol  354,  16th  century,  that  deals  with 
Christ's  betrayal  by  Judas.  There  the  thirty  plates  are  of  money 
(1.5),  but  the  latter  poem  is  not  strictly  popular,  and  many  repre- 
sent quite  other  traditions. 

3 —  Dr.  W.  M.  Hart,  in  an  article  "Professor  Child  and  the 
Ballad/'  (Publications  of  the  Modern  Language  Association,  XXI, 
775,)  lists  a  number  of  statements  from  Prof.  Child  to  the  effect. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


59 


In  the  manuscript  the  piece  is  written  in  long  lines 
without  stanza  division.  If  it  were  to  be  taken  down 
now  from  tradition  there  is  no  doubt  but  what  it  would 
be  written  as  short  -  line  quatrains.  The  verse  ap- 
proaches closely  the  so-called  stanza, — not  that  of  the 
Cnut  fragment,  but  that  of  Robin  Hood,  Chevy  Chase, 
and  so  many  others.  I  doubt,  however,  if  it  is  to  be 
counted  as  in  precisely  the  ballad-stanza  form.  Uneven- 
ness  of  rhythm  marks  a  great  deal  of  popular  poetry 
as  we  have  it,  but  the  Judas  lines  exhibit  something 
more  than  mere  unevenness  of  rhythm.1  There  seem, 
indeed,  to  be  two  kinds  of  verses:  one  illustrated  by 
"Hit  wes  upon  a  Scereporsday  pat  vre  louerd  aros, " 
and  the  other  by  such  a  line  as  "Imette  wid  is  soster, 
pe  swikele  wimon."  The  latter  seems  to  me  a  dis- 
tinctly separate  type  of  rhythm.2  There  are  too  many 
such  lines  in  the  poem  to  let  them  be  dismissed  as 
faulty  meter.  Furthermore,  the  type  has  survived  in 
such  popular  nursery  rimes  as  "Sing  a  song  a  six- 
pence, pocket  full  of  rye"  and  "Goosy,  goosy,  gander." 
I  think  all  the  short  lines  can  be  read  in  this  rhythm, 
and  with  the  effect  that  they  seem  to  have  the  same 
weight  as  the  others.  If  the  ballad  was  sung,  some 
equalization  of  the  kind  must  have  been  used.  Short  lines 
mixed  with  long  are  to  be  found  sporadically  in  other 


that  accuracy  is  not  a  good  sign;  cf.  also  Prof.  Kittredge,  Eng- 
lish and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads,  p.  XVI.  As  for  narrative  con- 
fusion, that  must  be  connected  with  ballads  as  we  have  them. 
Numerous  ballads  have  reached  us  in  a  confused  state.  Compare 
the  different  versions  of  the  Lass  of  Eock  Boyal,  for  example. 


1—  In  fact,  if  read  in  the  way  I  shall  suggest,  I  think  it  has 
considerable  smoothness.    The  rime  in  this  piece  is  not  primitive. 

2 —  The  question  here  is  not  one  of  the  shifting  of  accent.  It 
is  the  getting  the  right  number  of  accents  or  the  right  weight  to 
the  line.  Nor  is  the  question  one  of  missing  light  syllable.  It 
is  the  peculiar  and  individual  rhythm. 


60 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ballads,1  but  it  is  very  unusual  to  find  them  in  such 
great  numbers.  The  "Judas,"  therefore,  seems  a  little 
apart  from  the  usual  ballad  structure.  Nor  does  the 
peculiarity  seem  to  be  due  entirely  to  the  early  age  at 
which  the  poem  was  taken  down.  "The  Moral  Ode,"  pos- 
sibly a  century  older,  has  irregularities  in  meter,  but 
in  so  far  as  I  have  scanned  it,  no  lines  of  the  Sing  a 
Song  a  Sixpence  type.2  But  among  early  works,  the 
rhythm  is  by  no  means  limited  to  the  "Judas."  Rob- 
ert of  Gloucester's  Chronicle,3  The  Life  of  "Seynt 
Mergrete"4  in  the  Auchinleck  MS.,  The  Tale  of 
Gamelyn,5  and  other  pieces,6  all  show  an  extensive 
use  of  the  meter.  It  is  not,  however,  a  particularly 
popular  affair,  in  the  folk  sense,  and  though  there 
are  other  ballads  that  use  it,  the  number  is  limited  and 
the  best  two  examples  are  also  religious  pieces.  "The 


1—  The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,  No.  162.  1 '  That  he  wold  hunte 
in  the  mowntayns"  "In  the  magger  of  doughte  Dogles."  The 
scansion  given  for  the  first  of  the  two  lines  by  Saintsbury,  His- 
tory of  English  Prosody,  I,  p.  252.    See  also  the  page  following. 

2 —  I  have  merely  scanned  the  selection  in  Emerson's  Middle 
English  Eeader,  1908,  pp.  176  f.  Something  over  a  hundred  lines 
are  there  given.  The  MS.  followed  is  the  Edgerton  e,  said  by 
Emerson  to  be  the  best.    He  places  the  date  at  about  1170. 

3 —  The  selection  given  in  Emerson's  Eeader,  p.  203  f.,  "How 
the  Normans  came  to  England,"  11.  73,  95  ff.,  does  not  contain 
any  ' '  Judas ' '  lines  at  the  beginning,  but  toward  the  end  of  the 
passage  there  are  numerous  lines  of  the  sort.  "In  pe  zer  of  grace 
as  it  vel  also,"  etc.,  p.  209. 

4 —  MS.  Auchinleck,  fol.  16  b.  (c.-1310)  in  Horstmann,  Alten- 
glische  Legenden,  1881,  s.  225  f.,  cf.  And  for  hir  michel  feirhed,  / 
zif  sche  be  born  of  pral,  1.  33.  Wele  y  schal  hir  elope  /  in 
sikelatoun  and  pal.    .    .    .    etc.,  1.  35. 

5—  Skeat,  Clarendon  Press,  1884.  Also  in  the  Oxford  Chaucer, 
appendix  to  vol.  IV,  pp.  645  ff. 

6. — Several  pieces  in  the  15th  century  use  it ;  cf .  "I  have  a  zong 
suster,"  Sloane  MS.  2593,  edited  by  Wright;  Songs  and  Carols, 
Warton  Club,  1856,  p.  33.  There  are  also  pieces  in  the  Eeliquae 
Antiquae;  cf.  Ballad  of  a  Tyrannical  Husband,  II,  p.  196  f.,  etc. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


61 


Cherry  Tree  Carol"  (No.  54),  and  "The  Carnal  and  the 
Crane"  (No.  55). 1 

We  have  already  noted  that  the  probable  repetition 
after  lines  8,  25,  and  30,  are  not  cases  of  incremental 
repetition.  But  "Judas"  has  the  latter  variety  also, 
and  that  of  course  is  very  important  in  determining 
the  poem's  status.  The  question  "Wolte  sulle  pi 
louerd  .  .  .  ? "  is  repeated  two  stanzas  later  with  an 
increment.  But  the  case  is  not  one  of  the  simplest 
ballad  type.  In  fact,  what  I  have  called  the  increment 
is  the  shorter  answer.  The  method  strikes  me  as  art- 
ful. I  have  a  like  impression  from  the  other  case  of 
incremental  repetition  in  the  ballad:  "Vp  stod  him 
ludas. . .  "  repeated  in  the  next  stanza  by  "Vp  him 
stod  Peter ..."  As  good  examples  can  be  found  in 
other  early  poems  quite  out  of  the  range  of  balladry. 
Compare  for  instance  this  case  from  the  "Moral  Ode," 
certainly  not  at  all  ballad-like,  though  it  may  well  have 
numerous  popular  elements : 

"pider  we  scolden  dra3en  and  don  wel  oft  and  wel 
3el6me, 

For  per  ne  sceal  me  us  naht  binime,  mid  wrancwise 
dome. 

pider  we  scolde  ^eorne  dra^en,  wolde  ^e  me  ileve, 

For  Sere  ne  mei  hit  binime  eow  J?e  king  ne  se  ireve."2 


1 —  The  Boy  and  the  Mantle  (No.  29)  suggests  that  it  was  once 
of  this  meter.  Judas  is  not  in  the  typical  early  carol  meter.  That 
tends  to  the  rime  scheme,  aaab. 

2 —  MS.  Egerton  e,  Emerson's  Middle  English  Eeader,  p.  177,  11. 
47  f.  There  are  other  passages  in  this  same  poem  that  are  some- 
Avhat  incremental;  cf.  11.  90  f. 

' '  We  Ipe  brekeS  Godes  hese,  and  giiltet  swa  ilome, 
Hwet  scule  we  seggen  6Ser  don  at  <5e  muchele  dome? 
pa  6a  luveden  unriht,  and  uvel  lif  ledde, 
Hwet  scule  hi  segge  oSer  don  Ser  engles  beod  ofdreddeT' 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  incremental  repetition  to  be  found  in 
works  non-ballad  after   1400,   but   compare  passages  from  the 


62 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


None  of  this  sounds  primitive  or  elemental.  Ballads 
taken  down  in  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries 
often  suggest  more  strongly  the  beginning  of  things.1 
However,  without  any  doubt,  Judas  is  a  ballad.  In  its 
impersonality,  its  directness,  its  abundance  of  untagged 
dialogue,  its  abrupt  transitions,  we  find  ballad  traits 
that  are  unmistakable.  The  lack  of  primitiveness  at 
times  suggested  may  be  due  to  the  source :  we  have  no 
proof  that  the  piece  is  directly  from  tradition. 

This  lack  of  primitiveness.  however,  illustrates'  a 
paradox  that  we  shall  find  true  again  and  again, — one 
especially  interesting  for  the  historical  consideration  of 
the  ballad  type.  As  a  rule,  the  ballads  that  got  re- 
corded in  early  epochs  are  not  as  good  representatives 
of  the  qualities  that  strike  us  as  primitive  as  are  many 
of  the  ballads  obtained  from  oral  tradition  within  the 
last  one  or  two  hundred  years.  The  ballad  type  cannot 
be  traced  toward  a  prehistoric  origin  by  the  facts  of 
chronology.  Those  who  try  to  connect  balladry  with 
primitive  conditions  throw  chronology  to  the  winds  or 
at  least  ignore  it.  The  simplest  example  is  found  in 
Professor  Hart's  recent  study  in  Ballad  and  Epic.2 
There  he  classifies  many  ballads,  though  not  all,  ac- 
cording to  their  stage  of  narrative  simplicity.  He  shows 
there  is  considerable  difference  between  the  simplest 


Auchinleck,  Arthour  and  Merlin,  E.  Kolbing,  Leipzig,  1890.  They 
are  hardly  incremental,  but  suggestive  of  it,  and  there  are  several 
passages,  cf.  the  end  of  the  list  of  forty-two  knights  11.  5403  ff. 
cf.  the  list  11.  8695  ff.  Or  take  the  passage  beginning  with,  1. 
7173,  or  the  passage  1.  3725  f.  Much  of  this  material  naturally 
falls  into  stanzas;  cf.  3725. 

1 —  Cf.,  for  instance,  lines  quoted  by  Gummere  and  given  in  a 
note  above,  chap.  2,  p.  40. 

2 —  Ballad  and  Epic,  A  Study  in  the  Development  of  the  Nar- 
rative Art,  Harvard  Studies  and  Notes  in  Philology  and 
Literature,  1907. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


63 


of  ballads  and  the  most  developed.  For  the  first  he 
lists  seventy-two  ballads  from  the  Child  collection  as 
his  basis  for  generalization;1  but  only  three  of  this 
number,  in  the  form  we  have  them,  are  older  than  the 
17th  century,  and  about  three-fourths  of  this  same  list 
date  from  the  18th  and  19th  centuries.1  On  the  other 
hand  Adam  Bell  and  the  Gest  of  Robin  Hood,  two  of 
the  most  highly  developed  ballads,  and  well  on  the  way 
toward  epic,  have  come  to  us  from  the  beginning  of 
the  15th  century,  and  are  thus  among  the  ten  earliest 
ballads  that  have  reached  us.  And  finally  his  English 
example  of  the  epic  is  the  Beowulf,  a  piece  that  actually 
goes  back  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  period. 

The  temptation  may  be  strong  to  make  much  of  this 
paradox— this  lack  of  accord  between  chronology  and 
the  degree  of  ballad  simplicity.  But  one  here  may  well 
be  cautious.  The  phenomenon  is  striking  enough,  after 
it  has  once  been  noticed,  but  after  all  there  is  not 
enough  material  that  has  reached  us  from  the  Middle 
Ages  either  to  establish  or  overthrow  any  theory  on  the 
basis  of  chronology.  As  has  been  stated  previously,  if 
we  are  seeking  the  origin  of  the  ballad  type  in  an  epoch 
truly  primitive,  we  do  not  find  such  conditions  in  the 
Middle  Ages  nor  at  any  time  in  English  history.  Pro- 
fessional minstrelsy  is  to  the  front  as  far  back  as  we  can 
go  in  literary  records.  On  the  other  hand,  the  artistry 
found  in  "Judas"  offers  small  help  to  one  who  would 
deduce  the  ballad  type  from  some  well-known  medieval 
form.  In  so  far  as  I  know  the  contemporaneous  litera- 
ture— I  admit  my  knowledge  is  limited — "Judas" 
stands  apart  from  its  fellows.    In  spite  of  its  artistry 

1 — P.  314.  The  three  early  ballads  given  are  St.  Stephen  and 
Herod,  No.  22,  15th  century,  Captain  Car  (No.  178),  and  the  Fair 
Flower  of  Northumberland  (No.  9),  both  of  the  last  quarter  of 
the  16th  century. 


64 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


it  is  not  so  much  like  the  romances,  the  fabliaux,  or 
church  poems  as  it  is  like  later  ballads  of  the  Child 
type.  The  artistry  may  be  ^improvements"  of  the  re- 
corder. 

Early  English  song  material  is  exceedingly  scarce, 
no  matter  what  type  one  may  be  seeking.  There  are 
small  collections  of  religious  songs  in  several  manu- 
scripts, such  as  the  Vernon  and  Digby,  and  there  are  a 
very  few  scattered  secular  lyrics.1  The  material,  how- 
ever, is  surprisingly  limited.  There  is  but  one  truly  rep- 
resentative short-poem  collection  that  has  reached  us  in 
a  manuscript  earlier  than  the  15th  century.  That  is 
found  in  the  Harleian  MS.  2253,2  assigned  to  the  first 
quarter  of  the  fourteenth  century.3  This  is  a  remark- 
ably varied  miscellany  of  prose  and  verse,  both  secular 
and  religious,  in  Latin,  French,  and  English.  Thomas 
Wright  has  shown  with  some  probability  that  the  col- 
lection was  gotten  together  in  the  Abbey  at  Leominster 
in  Herefordshire — he  thinks  by  a  secular  clerk  there.4 
Dr.  Boddeker  adds  as  his  opinion  that  the  collector  had 

1 —  As  for  instance,  the  well-known  Cuckoo  Song. 

2 —  Most  of  the  English  verse  was  edited  by  Dr.  Karl  Boddeker 
as  "  Altenglische  Diehtungen  des  MS.  Harleian,  2253,  Berlin, 
1878.  Mit  Grammatik  and  Glossar. 77  Wright  published  many  of 
the  lyrics  in  his  collection  of  " Lyric  Poetry"  for  the  Percy 
Society,  No.  19.  He  published  the  political  songs  in  his  "Politi- 
cal Songs77  for  the  Camden  Society,  1839.  Some  of  the  songs 
and  poems  in.  the  MS.  have  often  been  reprinted. 

3 —  Wright  (Lyric  Poetry,  Introduction)  assigned  the  MS.  to 
within  or  very  soon  after  1307.  Boddeker  placed  the  date  at  1310; 
Ward,  Catalogue  of  Romances,  1447,  found  a  reference  in 
Thomas  of  Erceldonn7s  prophecy  of  the  Battle  of  Bannockburn, 
1314,  so  that  that  part  of  the  MS.  at  least  must  have  been  written 
as  late  as  that  date.  I  can  see  no  good  reason — certainly  none 
has  been  adduced — for  assigning  the  writing  of  the  whole  MS.  to 
any  one  year.  Percy  published  two  poems  from  the  MS.  in  his 
Eeliques.  He  was  of  the  opinion  that  the  date  was  not  later 
than  Richard  II. 

4 —  Introduction  to  Lyrical  Poems,  Percy  Society. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


65 


not  spent  the  best  years  in  a  cloister  but  had  been  out 
in  the  world  much  in  earlier  life.  At  least  we  may  state 
as  reasonably  certain  that  the  collector  was  no  recluse, 
but  a  man  of  cultivated  worldly  tastes  and  varied  in- 
terests. His  miscellany  resembles  what  in  later  times 
would  have  been  known  as  a  "  commonplace-book. " 
It  begins  with  a  French  poetical  "Vitae  Patrum,"  a 
prose  "De  la  Passion  Jesu, "  and  other  French  works 
of  the  sort.  Then  follows  a  "Praise  of  a  Lady,"  a 
"Strife  between  Summer  and  Winter,"  both  in 
French  verse ;  next  a  number  of  receipts  "Vor  te  make 
Cynople,"  etc.;  then  a  Latin  prose,  "Vita  Sancti 
Ethelberti  II,"  etc.  The  first  twenty  pieces  are  of 
no  particular  interest.  No.  21  in  the  collection  is  a 
dramatic  account  of  Christ's  Journey  to  Hell.  It  is 
in  English,  and  some  would  make  of  it  the  first  English 
miracle  play.1   But  this  is  the  way  in  which  it  begins : 

"Alle  herknep  to  me  non, 
a  strif  wolte  y  tellen  on 
of  iesu  ant  of  sathan, 
po  iesu  wes  to  helle  ygan."    .    .  . 

The  prologue  ends : 

"In  godhed  tok  he  ]?en  way 
pat  to  helle  gates  lay. 
pen  he  com  perr  po  seide  he 
asse  y  shal  noupe  telle  ]?e. ' ' 

Then  follows  material  in  a  dramatic  form.  The 
"me's"  and  "yV  are  troublesome  in  this  prologue. 
They  seem  to  indicate  that  all  the  parts  were  taken  by 
the  same  speaker — a  minstrel,  shall  we  call  him?  The 
last  ten  lines,  a  sort  of  epilogue,  show  the  same  thing. 
How  did  he  present  this  material  ?   Dramatically,  or  as 


1 — Cf.  Boddeker's  introduction  to  the  poem,  p.  270  f. 


66  ENGLISH  BALLADRV 


if  it  were  mere  narrative?1  And  more  important, 
where  did  he  get  it  in  the  first  place  ?  Has  he  borrowed 
some  miracle  play  and  adapted  it  to  personal  recita- 
tion ?  These  questions  are  not  so  remote  from  balladry 
as  they  may  seem.  Many  a  ballad  contains  the  same 
perplexing  union  of  dramatic  and  narrative  elements. 
The  subject  if  carried  into  the  realms  of  balladry,  how- 
ever, is  too  large  to  be  properly  discussed  here.2 

Following  this  piece  in  the  manuscript  there  is  an- 
other dialogue,  an  English  "  Debate  between  the  Body 
and  the  Soul. ' '  Next  there  is  an  English  satirical  song 
on  Richard  of  Cornwall;  then  some  more  French 
verse  on  the  Battle  of  Evesham,  an  English  song  on 
the  execution  of  Sir  Simon  Fraser,  and  a  poem  on  the 
luxury  of  women.  No.  27  is  an  English  religious  song, 
"Middelerd  for  mon  wes  mad."  Then  follow  three 
exquisite  English  lyrics,  including  "Alysoun."  Then 
follows  an  English  "Lrament  of  the  Husbandman." 
Next  comes  Marina,  an  English  legend,  then  some  more 
lyrics,  and  so  on.  It  would  keep  us  too  long  to  analyse 
the  rest  of  the  manuscript  with  the  same  detail.  In 
all,  according  to  Boddeker's  list,  there  are  116  pieces. 
Of  those  that  are  English,  eight  are  political  songs, 
fourteen  secular  lyrics,  and  eighteen  religious  songs  or 
lyrics.    Then,  too,  besides  what  we  have  already  men- 


1 —  Is  it  material  of  this  sort  that  led  Percy,  in  the  early  edi- 
tions of  the  Eeliques,  to  ascribe  dramatic  action  to  minstrels,  a 
statement  so  harshly  attacked  by  Eitson  that  it  was  modified  in 
the  fourth  edition? 

2 —  Mr.  G-.  M.  Miller  has  made  an  interesting  contribution  on 
' '  The  Dramatic  Element  in  the  Popular  Ballad, ' 7  University  of 
Cincinnati  Bulletin,  No.  19.  But  he  has  not  exhausted  the  sub- 
ject, as  he  himself  is  perfectly  aware.  Mr.  E.  K.  Chambers,  in 
"The  Medieval  Stage,"  1,  pp.  81-83,  says  that  the  " Harrowing 
of  Hell"  is  not  a  miracle  play,  but  an  estrif.  He  thinks  it,  like 
others  of  its  class,  ' '  to  have  been  recited  by  a  single  minstrel  with 
appropriate  changes  of  gesture  and  intonation. " 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


67 


tioned,  there  is  in  this  manuscript  the  English  "Gest 
of  King  Horn;"  also  a  minstrel  ballad  called  "Max- 
imion ; ' '  and  the  ' '  Sayings  of  Hendyng. ' '  We  thus  see 
that  this  is  a  remarkably  rich  collection.  Indeed,  it 
stands  among  the  best  of  the  English  miscellanies.  For 
some  departments  of  literature  it  offers  us  all  that  we 
have  for  the  period.  This  is  notably  true  of  the  politi- 
cal songs  and  the  love  songs.  Some  of  the  latter,  in 
their  thoroughly  lyric  quality,  have  no  equals  up  to  the 
time  of  Elizabeth.  Perhaps  a  majority  of  the  pieces 
in  the  collection  are  religious,  but  the  collector's  taste 
was  not  at  all  circumscribed  by  feelings  of  piety.  If 
we  may  judge  from  the  list  of  contents,  revised  by 
Boddeker  from  the  list  in  the  Harleian  Catalogue,  our 
collector  even  liked  French  tales  of  ribaldry.  "A 
smutty  ballad  of  a  Squire  and  a  Lady's  Woman"  is 
one  of  the  titles.  And  yet  in  all  this  widely  represent- 
ative collection  there  is  not  a  single  piece  that  at  all 
resembles  a  Child  ballad.  This  seems  at  first  surpris- 
ing, but  a  careful  weighing  of  the  material  shows  it  is 
not  so  very  strange  a  thing  after  all.  This  is  a  literary 
collection.  The  pieces  vary  greatly  in  merit,  but  on 
each  is  found  the  literary  stamp.  The  artist  or  com- 
poser is  ever  prominent.  Ballads  of  the  Child  type,  in- 
cluding the  " Judas,"  seem  to  belong  to  quite  another 
world  of  poetry.  Their  absence  is  then  not  so  remark- 
able that  it  can  create  any  strong  presumption  against 
the  prevalence  of  their  type. 

But  what  the  collection  lacks  in  Child  balladry,  it 
makes  up  for  in  specimens  of  the  stall  type.  It  is 
usual  to  associate  stall  productions  with  the  16th  and 
17th  centuries,  with  cheap  printing  and  with  the  decay 
of  minstrelsy.  But  the  Harleian  MS.  has  several 
pieces  with  traits  that  closely  resemble  typical  stall 


68 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ballads  of  the  17th  century.  It  seems  evident  then 
that  the  stall  type  as  a  verse  form  long  antedates  the 
invention  of  printing.  The  respectability  and  social 
status  may  Have  changed  in  later  times,  but  the  type 
after  all  retained  much  of  its  ancient  style  and  its 
mannerisms.    Never  did  it  produce  exalted  literature. 

Two  of  the  Harleian  MS.  political  songs  are  re- 
printed in  Percy's  Reliques.  They  are  a  satirical  ac- 
count of  " Richard  of  Almaigne,"  and  an  elegy  "On 
the  Death  of  King  Edward  the  First."1  Neither  im- 
presses one  with  extreme  age.  If  the  language  were 
modernized  a  little  they  might  easily  pass  for  stall  pro- 
ductions.   Compare  the  beginning  of 

1 1  Sitteth  alle  stille,  ant  herkneth  to  me ; 
The  Kyng  of  Alemaigne,  bi  mi  leaute, 
Thritti  thousent  pound  askede  he 
For  te  make  pees  in  the  countre, 

Ant  so  he  dude  more. 
(Refr.)    Richard,  thah  thou  be  ever  trichard, 
Trichthen  shalt  thou  never  mpre," 

with  the  beginning  of  the  stall  "Cooper  of  Norfolk:" 
"Attend,  my  Masters,  and  listen  well 
Unto  this  my  Ditty,  which  briefly  doth  tell 
Of  a  fine  merry  lest  which  in  Norfolk  befell. 
A  brave  lusty  Cooper  in  that  Countie  did  dwell, 
And  there  he  cry'd,  Work  for  a  Cooper; 
Maids,  ha'  ye  any  work  for  a  Cooper?"2 

As  for  the  elegy,  that  surely  does  not  stand  apart.  It 
is  in  the  common  four-beat  abababab  meter,  and  it 
does  not  differ  much  in  sentiment  from  numerous  later 
stall  laments. 

But  other  pieces  have  affinities  with  the  stall  type. 


1 — Both  were  originally  published  in  volume  two.    I  have  used 
the  2-vol.  edition  of  J.  V.  Priehard,  reprinted  by  Crowell,  N.  Y., 
pp.  144,  146. 
,  2 — Chappell,  Eoxburghe  Ballads,  1,  p.  99. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


69 


The  "Debate  between  the  Body  and  Soul"  suggests 
the  later  debate  between  "Death  and  the  Lady."1 
One  piece  commences  "Lystneth,  lordynges,  a  ne*we 
song  ichulle  bigynne."  Many  a  stall  ballad  advertises 
that  it  is  "new."  If  one  thinks  the  old  songs  were  so 
much  better  than  the  stall  ballads  as  to  belong  to  a 
different  genus,  let  him  read  "Maximion, "  which  be- 
gins : 

Herkne  to  my  ron, 
as  ich  ou  telle  con 
of  elde  al  hou  yt  ges ; 
of  a  mody  mon, 
highte  maximion, 
sop  wip  oute  les. 
Clerk  he  was  ful  god, 
so  monimen  vnderstod, 

nou  herkne  hou  it  wes ;  etc. 

That  author  was  certainly  not  inspired.2  His  poem, 
however,  got  into  the  miscellany.  Furthermore,  we 
find  another  peculiarity  in  the  songs  of  the  miscellany 
that  reminds  us  of  later  conditions.  Just  as  in  late 
times  worldly  ballads  were  made  over  into  "Godly 
ballads,"  so,  even  back  at  the  beginning  of  the  14th 
century,  worldly  songs  were  made  the  basis  of  religious 
lyrics.   Who  would  suspect  from  this  first  stanza, 

' '  When  y  se  blosmes  springe, 
ant  here  f oules  song, 
a  suete  lovelongynge, 
myn  herte  ]?ourh  out  stong, 
al  for  a  loue  newe, 
pat  is  so  suete  ant  truwe, 
pat  gladie]?  al  mi  song ; 
ich  wot  al  myd  iwisse. 
my  ioie  ant  eke  my  blisse 
on  him  is  al  ylong, ' ' 


1 —  Keally  it  suggests  at  the  beginning,  Sir  Thopno. 

2 —  See  Chappell,  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  pp.  164-168. 


70 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


or  from  this  third  stanza, 

"As  y  rod  J?is  ender  day 
by  grene  wode  to  seche  play 
mid  herte  y  bohte  al  on  a  may, 
suetest  of  alle  binge  ; 
Lybe,  and  ieh  ou  telle,  may 
all  of  bat  suete  binge." 

that  the  songs  were  to  celebrate  Christ  and  Mary? 

Though  there  is  not  material  enough  to  permit  one 
to  be  dogmatic  in  opinions,  all  the  facts  that  can  be 
got  together  seem  to  show  with  fair  clearness  that  the 
art  of  printing  brought  about  no  immediate  revolution 
in  the  literary  form  of  the  song  and  ballad.  We  have 
every  reason  to  suppose  that  long  before  the  day  of 
broadsides  there  were  ballad-singers,  and  their  ef- 
fusions were  not  much  better  and  not  much  worse  than 
those  of  later  date.1  There  were  certainly  street  sing- 
ers. The  story  in  the  Vernon  MS.  of  the  Child  slain  by 
the  Jews  makes  that  clear.  To  be  sure  the  scene  there 
is  laid  in  Paris,  but  the  place  is  not  significant;  it  is 
the  story  that  is  important. 

"pe  child  non  oJ?er  Craftus  coube 
But  winne  his  lyflode  wib  his  moube. 
pe  Childes  vois  was  swete  and  cler ; 
Men  lusted  his  song  wib  riht  good  cher ; 
Wib  his  song  bat  was  ful  swete 
He  gat  Mete  from  strete  to  strete. 
Men  herked  his  song  ful  likyngly : 
Hit  was  an  Antimne  of  vre  lady. 
He  song  J? at  Antimne  everi-wher, 
I — called  Alma  Redemptoris  Mater."2 


1 —  The  material  to  be  presented  for  the  15th  century  will  help 
to  establish  this  point. 

2 —  Minor  Poems  from  Vernon  MS.,  edited  by  C.  Hortsmann, 
for  the  Early  English  Text  Society,  vol.  1,  p.  141. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


71 


But  this  very  period  is  represented  by  too  little  ma- 
terial to  make  theorising  of  much  value.1  There  are 
at  least  two  other  collections — the  Digby  MS.  862  and 
the  Vernon  MS. — that  offer  examples  of  religious 
lyrics,  but  their  songs  need  not  detain  us.  To  a  cer- 
tain degree  they  duplicate  but  with  considerable  varia- 
tions the  Harleian  MS.  we  have  just  been  discussing.3 
The  variations  seem  to  be  due  to  oral  transmission  or 
tradition. 

The  only  other  song  collection  that  we  need  to  con- 
sider for  the  14th  century  is  the  group  of  ten  or  eleven 
political  ballads  written  by  Lawrence  Minot.4  These 
are  found  in  a  manuscript  of  the  early  15th  century, 
but  the  songs  clearly  belong  to  the  middle  of  the  14th. 
They  are  rousing  war  ballads,  celebrating  the  victories 


1 —  Professor  F.  M.  Padelford,  Cambridge  History  of  English 
Literature,  vol.  II.,  p.  424  (Transition  English  Song  Collection), 
quotes  an  early  14th  century  song  from  MS.  Eawlinson  D.  913. 
The  song  hardly  seems  complete  and  he  describes  it  as  a  stray 
leaf.  It  is  arranged  in  recitative,  but  he  quotes  it  without  repeti- 
tion. It  is  plainly  suggestive  of  the  folk-song,  and  it  may  be 
part  of  one,  even  of  a  ballad.  It  does  not  tell  any  story  nor 
suggest  one  directly,  but  that  may  be  because  it  is  a  fragment, 
or  it  may  not  be. 

'  *  Maiden  in  the  moor  lay  /  Seven  nights  full  and  a  day. 

Well,  what  was  her  meet?"  /  The  primrose  and  the  violet." 
"Well,  what  was  her  dryng?"  /  The  chill  water  of  (the)  well 
spring. ' ' 

"Well,  what  was  her  bower?"  /  The  rede  rose  and  the  lilly 
flower. 7 ' 

2 —  Some  of  the  Digby  MS.  songs  are  printed  in  vol.  2  of  the 
E.  E.  T.  S.  vol.  just  mentioned. 

3 —  Boddeker,  Altenglische  Dichtung,  p.  vii,  f.,  discusses  the 
relations  of  the  Harleian  MS.  2253  to  the  Digby  MS.  86,  etc. 
In  the  E.  E.  T.  S.  vol.,  Minor  Poems  of  the  Vernon  MS.  songs  in 
that  MS.,  which  are  also  in  the  Harleian  2253,  etc.,  are  given  in 
parallel  columns.  See  vol.  II.,  p.  449,  "  Suete  Ihesu,  king  of 
blysse,  II,  p.  451,  Ihesu,  suete  is  be  loue  of  he, "    .    .    .  etc. 

4 —  Poems  were  edited  by  Thomas  Wright  in  his  ' '  Political 
Songs, ' '  Eoll  Series,  1859,  pp.  58  ff .  He  gives  there  a  brief  note 
of  introduction.  They  have  several  times  been  printed  at  least 
in  part. 


72 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


of  Edward  III.  Nothing  is  known  of  their  author  ex- 
cept his  name  and  that  he  gave  us  himself  in  his  poems. 
He  is  supposed  to  have  been  a  professional  song- 
writer,— "ein  Spielmann,  der  auf  dem  Wege  ist,  Min- 
strel zu  werdeir'1  is  the  way  Ten  Brink  describes  him. 
He  certainly  showed  power  and  he  handled  a  variety 
of  meters  with  much  tunefulness.  His  work,  however, 
does  not  in  the  least  resemble  the  Child  type  of  ballad. 
The  affinities  are  all  with  professional  stall  songs  of  the 
best  sort.  Perhaps  of  later  stall  writers  he  may  remind 
one  of  Thomas  Deloney2  and  his  ballads  of  1588.  He 
was  a  more  skillful  writer,  though  probably  not  so 
versatile.  But  whatever  praise  we  may  give  to  Minot, 
and  some  has  been  justly  given,  he  remains  after  all 
but  a  professional  ballad-writer  of  the  days  before  the 
invention  of  printing. 

1-  — Geschichte  der  Englischen  Litteratur,  1877,  Band  I,  s.  403  f. 

2 —  More  personal  and  vigorous  than  Deloney.  In  these  traits 
he  reminds  one  very  strongly  of  Skelton  in  his  ' '  Ballad  of  the 
Scottish  King,"  If.  46  f. 


CHAPTER  III 


Ballad  of  Outlawry. 

IT  is  in  text  B1  of  Piers  Plowman  that  we  receive 
our  first  introduction  to  the  ballad  hero  Robin 
Hood.  We  are  assured  of  his  popularity  from 
the  start,  though  it  is  a  popularity  that  should 
reflect  on  him  little  credit ; — 2  for  it  is  Sloth  who  knew 
rimes  of  Robin  Hood  and  of  Randolf,  Earl  of  Chester, 
better  than  he  knew  his  paternoster.  A  lazy  sponsor 
may  have  been  too  much  for  the  Earl;  at  least  his 
rimes  have  entirely  disappeared  and  it  is  impossible  to 
determine  now  which  of  the  Randolfs  it  was.3  But 
the  woodland  outlaw  thrived  after  this  introduction, 
and  he  has  been  the  most  renowned  of  ballad  heroes 
ever  since.    Text  B,  according  to  Professor  Skeat,4  and 


1—  Passus  V.,  11.  401  f.  W.  W.  Skeat.  C  text.  Passus  VI  EI  , 
11.  10-11,  p.  166  of  vol.  1.  The  Vision  of  William  Concerning 
Piers  the  Plowman,  Clarendon  Press,  1886.    B  text  reads: 

"I  can  nou^te  perfitly  my  pater-noster  •  as  J?e  prest  it  syngeth, 

But  I  can  rymes  of  Eobin  hood  •  and  Eandolf  erle  of  Chestre, 
As  neither  of  owre  lorde  ne  of  owre  lady.  )>e  leste  ]?at  euere  was 
made. 7 ' 

The  C  text  is  essentially  the  same,  though  not  identically.  It  is 
not  in  A  text. 

2 —  A  large  part  of  the  references  to  Eobin  Hood  show  con- 
tempt for  him.  I  have  not  made  enough  out  of  that  in  my 
treatment. 

3 —  The  rimes  might  have  been  about  either  Eandolf  II.  or  III. 
The  first  lived  in  the  time  of  Stephen,  and  the  second  in  the  days 
of  Eichard  I.  Dr.  W.  H.  Clawson,  in  an  unpublished  thesis  in  the 
Harvard  library,  the  Eobin  Hood  Ballads,  discusses  the  probabil- 
ities without  arriving  at  any  convincing  conclusions.  According  to 
his  statement  the  majority  of  opinions  favor  Eandolf  III.,  including 
Eitson,  Hales,  and  Skeat.  Only  Wright  favors  Eandolf  II.  Dr. 
Clawson  believes  the  two  may  have  got  mixed  in  tradition.  Pro- 
fessor Gummere  also  suggests  that  possibility.  All  is  conjecture, 
however. 

4 —  Piers  the  Plowman,  Clarendon  Press,  3  texts,  vol.  2,  p.  XII. 


73 


74 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Professor  Manly  retains  the  date,1  was  written  about 
1377.  We  thus  know  that  Robin  Hood  material  was 
popular  long  before  the  close  of  the  14th  century,  but 
we  are  treading  on  rather  dangerous  ground  if  we  try 
to  claim  much  for  the  hero  before  the  known  date. 
Robin  Hood  is  no  humanized  Odin,2  and  if  he  ever  were 
a  real  person,  a  not  improbable  supposition,3  he  was 
not  of  sufficient  importance  to  have  his  name  recorded 
in  authentic  history.4  As  we  know  him,  "Robin  Hood 
is  absolutely  a  creation  of  the  ballad-muse."  He  is 
several  times  mentioned  in  the  15th  century,5  but  "the 


1 —  "  Piers  the  Plowman"  and  its  Sequence,  chapter  1,  of  vol. 
II.  of  the  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature,  1908,  p.  26. 

2—  Professor  Child,  Ballads,  vol.  Ill,  p.  47  f.,  discusses  the  evi- 
dence for  a  mythical  origin  for  Eobin  Hood.  His  opinion  is 
gummed  up  in  the  following  sentence  (p.  48) :  "I  cannot  admit 
that  even  the  shadow  of  a  case  has  been  made  out  by  those  who 
would  attach  a  mythical  character  either  to  Robin  Hood  or  the 
outlaws  of  Inglewood,  "Adam  Bell,  Clim  of  the  Clough,  and  Will- 
iam of  Cloudesly. " 

3 —  This  is  Dr.  Clawsoii's  view  and  Professor  Gummere's  and 
Professor  Hale's,  Introduction  to  Eobin  Hood  Ballads,  p.  5  of 
vol.  X,  of  the  Percy  Folio  MS.,  1867.  There  is  nothing  incon- 
sistent between  it  and  Professor  Child's  statement  that  "Robin 
Hood  is  absolutely  a  creation  of  the  ballad-muse"  if  we  but  make 
sensible  proviso,  "as  we  know  him.7' 

4 —  Various  ingenious  attempts  have  been  made  to  identify  him 
with  known  personages,  as  Professor  Child  points  out  (v.  3,  p  43  n.). 
Professor  Child  refers  to  Lieutenant-Colonel  Prideaux's  sugges 
tion  that  Robin  Hood  may  have  been  borrowed  from  Fulk  Fitz- 
Warine  (n.  and  2,  7th  series,  II,  421  ff.).  Professor  Child  com- 
ments, "Undoubtedly  this  might  be,  but  both  may  have  been 
borrowed  from  the  common  stock  of  tradition."  Dr.  Clawson 
handles  the  work  of  Prideaux  at  greater  length,  and  shows  that 
the  Colonel  makes  many  far-fetched  identifications.  His  con- 
clusion is  even  less  favorable  than  Professor  Child's.  Hunter's 
views  in  ' 1  The  Ballad-Hero  Robin  Hood"  are  discussed  at  pp. 
43  and  55  f.  Professor  Child  says  that  Hunter  "could  have 
identified  Pigrogromitus  and  Quinapalus,  if  he  had  given  his- 
mind  to  it."  Child  shows  the  absurdity  of  a  part  of  Hunter's 
conclusion  that  Robin  Hood  was  one  of  the  "vadlets,  porteur? 
of  King  Edward  II,  receiving  3d.  a  day  for  his  service." 

5 —  Child  mentions  nine  or  ten  references  to  Robin  Hood  in 
the  loth  century. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


75 


only  two  early  historians1  who  speak  of  him  as  a  bal- 
lad hero  (Bower,  writing  1441-47,  and  Major,  born  ca. 
1450)  pretend  to  have  no  information  about  him  except 
what  they  derive  from  ballads,2  and  show  that  they 
have  none  other  by  the  description  they  give  of  him; 
this  description  being  in  entire  conformity  with  ballads 
in  our  possession,  one  of  which  is  found  in  a  manuscript 
as  old  as  the  older  of  these  two  writers. 

"  Robin  Hood  is  a  yeoman,  outlawed  for  reasons  not 
given,  but  easily  surmised,  courteous  and  free,  relig- 
ious in  sentiment,  and  above  all  reverent  of  the  Virgin, 
for  the  love  of  whom  he  is  respectful  to  all  women. 
He  lives  by  the  king's  deer  (though  he  loves  no  man 
in  the  world  so  much  as  his  king)  and  by  levies  on  the 
superfluity  of  the  higher  orders,  secular  and  spiritual, 
bishops  and  archbishops,  abbots,  bold  barons,  and 
knights,  but  harms  no  husbandman  or  yeoman,  and  is 
friendly  to  poor  men  generally,  imparting  to  them  of 
what  he  takes  from  the  rich.  Courtesy,  good  temper, 
liberality  and  manliness  are  his  chief  marks;  for 
courtesy  and  good  temper  he  is  a  popular  Gawein. 
Yeoman  as  he  is,  he  has  a  kind  of  royal  dignity,  a 
princely  grace,  and  a  gentleman-like  refinement  of  hu- 
mor.   This  is  the  Robin  Hood  of  the  Gest  especially; 


1 —  All  this  quoted  material  is  taken  directly  from  Professor 
Child,  as  presented,  however,  in  the  Sargent  and  Kittredge  one- 
vol.  edition  of  the  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads,  1904. 
Much  more  proof  is  presented  wherever  needful  in  Professor 
Child's  complete  work. 

2 —  Professor  Gayley  (Kepresentative  Comedies,  p.  XI),  how- 
ever, says :  ' 1  With  all  deference  to  the  best  of  authorities,  Pro 
f  essor  Child,  I  cannot  but  think  that  when  Bower  wrote  ...  of 
the  popular  ' comedies  and  tragedies'  of  Bobertus  Hode  et  Littill 
Johanne, '  he  had  reference  to  acted  plays,  since  he  took  "the  pains 
to  specify  in  his  account  of  them  the  mimi,  as  well  as  the  ~bardani 
who  chanted  them. 7 ' 


76 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  late  ballads  debase  this  primary  conception  in  vari- 
ous ways  and  degrees." 

Such  is  Professor  Child's  characterization.  Robin 
Hood  is  a  typical  outlaw,  though  probably  not  the  first 
of  whom  ballads  were  sung.  But  whether  any  of  the 
earlier  heroes  were  celebrated  in  ballads  of  the  Child 
type  is  entirely  a  matter  of  conjecture.  In  the  Harleian 
MS.  2253,  of  which  we  have  already  said  so  much,  there 
is  an  outlaw  poem  in  French,  which  though  it  lacks 
entirely  the  "popular"  note,  has  certain  lines  and  sen- 
timents that  may  suggest  the  existence  of  the  outlaw 
type  of  ballad.1  It  is  no  fanciful  tale  of  the  delights 
of  the  woodland,  but  an  attack  on  the  laws  of  the  time. 
If  these  do  not  change,  men  will  become  robbers  who 
were  never  so  before.  If  a  man  is  a  good  companion 
and  knows  archery  his  neighbors  will  say,  "This  man 
belongs  to  a  company  to  go  hunt  and  do  other  folly." 
The  author  is  an  outlaw  who  has  served  his  king  in 
peace  and  war.  He  invites  all  who  are  indicted  to  come 
to  the  greenwood  of  Beauregard.  It  is  better  to  dwell 
with  him  in  the  wood,  than  to  lie  cast  in  the  bishop's 
prison.  The  poem  claims  to  have  been  written  on 
parchment  and  left  in  the  highway  that  people  might 
find  it.   It  contains  one  or  two  woodland  pictures2  sug- 


1 — Wright,  The  Political  Songs  of  England  from  the  reign  of 
John  to  that  of  Edward  II.  Camden  Society,  1839,  pp.  231  ff. 
It  is  entitled  there,  ' '  The  Outlaw 's  Song  of  Traillebaston. ' '  The 
date  1307  has  been  assigned  to  it.    It  is  on  folio  113  of  the  MS. 

2— 

"Cest  rym  fust  fet  al  bois  desouz  un  lorer, 
La  chaunte  merle,  russinole,  e  eyre  l'esperver; 
Escrit  estoit  en  parchemyn  pur  mout  remembrer, 
E  gitte  en  haut  chemyn,  qe  um  le  dust  trover. 
Pur  ce  me  tendroi  autre  bois  sur  le  jolyf  umbray; 
La  n  'y  a  f aucete  ne  nulle  male  lay ; 
En  le  bois  de  Belregard,  on  vole  le  jay, 
E  chaunte  russinole  touz  jours  sant  delay." 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


77 


gestive  of  the  openings  of  some  of  the  Eobin  Hood  bal- 
lads, but  they  are  merely  suggestive,  and  the  woodland 
description  is  also  to  be  found  in  romances,  notably 
the  Auchinleck  version  of  Merlin.1 

Outlaw  material  of  one  sort  or  another  is  very  com- 
mon in  the  Middle  Ages  and  has  been  given  consider- 
able scholarly  treatment.  The  last  to  make  a  thorough 
investigation  is  Dr.  W.  H.  Clawson,2  who  has  embodied 
his  results  in  an  unpublished  thesis  in  the  Harvard 
Library.  He  has  treated  Hereward,  Edric,  Waltheof, 
Eustace  the  Monk,  Fulk  Fitz-Warine,  the  second  and 
third  Randolfs,  Earls  of  Chester,  Sir  William  Wallace, 
besides  the  early  outlaw  ballads  and  the  pseudo-bal- 
lad "The  Tale  of  Gamelyn. "   He  has  shown  the  simi- 

1 —  Professor  Child  lias  noted  the  similarity  of  the  beginning  of 
the  French  prose  romance  of  Fulk  Fitz-Warine,  to  the  woodland 
beginnings  in  Eobin  Hood  ballads.  Child,  Robin  Hood  anc1 
Monk,  III,  p.  95.  For  the  Arthur  and  Merlin,  I  first  noted  the 
trait  in  the  quotations  in  Ellis's  Early  English  Metrical 
Romances,  Bohn  edition,  pp.  107,  115  ff.  Ellis  divides  the  poem 
into  cantos  with  these  descriptions  as  openings.  Kolbing,  in  his 
edition  of  the  poem  (Arthour  and  Merlin,  Leipzig,  1890),  makes 
no  such  canto  division.  His  line  numbers  are  3059  f.,  4199  f., 
4675  f.,  5349  f.,  6595  f.,  7397  f.,  7619  f.,  8657  f.  Here  are  two 
openings  as  quoted  in  Ellis: 

' 1  Mirie  it  is  in  time  of  June, 
When  fenil  hangeth  abroad  in  toun; 
Violet,  and  rose  flower, 
.    Woneth  then  in  maiden's  bower. 
Ihe  sonne  is  hot,  the  day  is  long. 
Foulis  maketh  miri  song. 
King  Arthour  bar  coroun 
In  Cardoile  that  noble  town." 

Canto  II.  (1.  3059  f.). 

"Miri  is  th'  entre  of  May; 
The  fowles  make  mirie  play; 
Maidens  singeth,  and  maketh  play; 
The  time  is  hot,  and  long  the  day, 
The  jolif  nightingale  singeth, 
In  the  grene  mede  flowers  springeth. " 

(Canto  IV.  (1.  4675  f.).. 

2 —  Robin  Hood  Ballads,  1907,  Harvard  Doctorate  Thesis. 


78 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


larities  of  all  this  to  Robin  Hood  material.  The  paral- 
lelisms are  in  some  cases  or  in  some  incidents  re- 
markably close,1  but  in  spite  of  that  fact,  and  in  spite 
of  the  extensiveness  of  the  evidence,  unless  one  wishes 
to  grant  that  the  Robin  Hood  ballads  are  a  product  of 
minstrelsy — a  not  impossible  supposition2 — it  is  hard 
to  see  that  Dr.  Clawson  has  presented  a  single  indubi- 
table proof  that  any  of  these  heroes  were  sung  in  bal- 
lads of  the  Child  type.  Many  of  them  were  celebrated 
in  songs  or  poems  of  some  kind.  Hereward  had  his 
exploits  sung  at  the  cross-roads  in  the  days  of  Ingulf 
of  Croyland,3  but  that  plainly  suggests  that  it  was  the 
minstrel  who  did  the  singing.  And  the  suggestion 
weakens  what  would  otherwise  be  the  force  of  another 
statement  in  the  same  forged  chronicle,  that  "women 
and  maidens  sang  in  their  dance"4  these  exploits. 

Professor  Gummere,  treating  nearly  the  same  list  of 
warrior  heroes,  shows  conclusively  how  almost  impos- 

1 —  Cf.  H  reward's  disguise  as  a  potter,  Clawson,  pp.  25  and  45. 
There  is  also  a  potter  episode  in  Eustace,  as  Dr.  Clawson  points 
out.  Also  see  Clawson,  p.  65,  for  the  habit  of  Eustace  of  robbing 
only  those  who  lied  about  the  amount  of  money  they  had.  Com 
pare  the  Gest,  sts.  40  f.  and  243  f.  Dr.  Clawson  has  treated  the 
parallels  extensively.  I  think  he  has  overworked  his  subject, 
cannot  see  that  he  has  proved  anything  beyond  what  Professo 
Child  did.  The  emphasis  on  noble  birth,  strength  of  the  hero,  the 
use  of  disguise,  similarity  in  woodland  dinners,  visits  of  an  outlaw 
to  a  hostile  town,  robbing  of  convoys,  the  perfect  discipline,  etc. 
may  easily  be  too  strong.    Such  matter  does  not  prove  much. 

2 —  Professor  Child  (III.,  49)  says  that  "The  Gest  is  a  popular 
epic,  composed  of  several  ballads,  by  a  poet  of  a  thoroughly 
congenial  spirit."  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  all  miii 
strels  were  alike,  and  some  in  the  remoter  districts  may  have  been 
thoroughly  under  popular  influence.  I  cannot  see  that  com 
munal  composition,  in  the  sense  that  the  throng  has  taken  par 
to  make  the  ballad,  can  be  claimed  for  any  of  the  Eobin  Hood 
material  as  we  have  it. 

3 —  Clawson,  p.  8.  His  authority  is  the  false  Ingulfs  Historia 
Croylandensis  in  Gale's  Eerum  Anglicorum  Scriptores,  vol.  1,  p.  68. 

4 —  Clawson,  p.  14.  These  facts  also  mentioned  by  Professor 
Gummere,  Popular  Ballad,  p.  47. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


79 


sible  it  is  to  infer  anything  about  the  nature  of  these 
songs.  "Minstrels,"  he  says,1  "are  not  a  remote  con- 
jecture for  some  cases.  Randolf  is  actually  said  to  have 
been  rescued  by  a  'rabble  of  minstrels,'  to  have  given 
them  privileges,  and  to  have  been  sung  by  them. 
Waltheof,  contemporary  with  Hereward  as  well  as  with 
Eadric  the  Wild,  was  sung,  says  Freeman,2  'in  the 
warlike  songs  of  the  tongues  of  both  his  parents ' ;  but 
one  of  these  songs  is  preserved  and  is  plainly  by  a 
minstrel,  a  scald,  with  no  trace  of  the  popular  ballad 
about  it.  The  account  of  Waltheof 's  doughty  deeds  at 
York  given  by  William  of  Malmesbury,  a  fine  bit  of 
description,  Freeman  thinks  to  be  plainly  'taken  from  a 
ballad.'  What  sort  of  a  ballad?  Henry  of  Hunting- 
don takes  an  account  of  the  battles  of  Brunanburh  from 
a  'ballad,'  too;  but  the  source  in  this  case  is  easily 
recognized  as  that  fine  battle-poem  in  the  Chronicle, 
and  is  no  ballad  at  all." 

It  is  the  possibility  of  minstrel  songs  and  even  of 
romances  that  renders  doubtful  many  of  the  conclu- 
sions of  Dr.  Clawson.  Take  the  case  of  Randolf,  Earl 
of  Chester,  as  an  example.  None  of  the  "rimes"  men- 
tioned in  "Piers  Plowman"3  have  come  down  to  us. 
We  do  not  even  know  which  earl  was  meant,  for  either 
the  second  or  the  third  Randolf  had  a  sufficiently  heroic 
life  to  have  been  a  fit  subject  for  poetic  treatment. 
Perhaps  there  was  a  fusion  of  the  two  earls,  as  Dr. 
Clawson  and  Professor  Gummere  both  suggest.4  All 


1 — Popular  Ballad,  p.  50. 
.  2 — It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  Freeman  had  a  very  much 
looser  conception  of  the  nature  of  the  ballad  than  Professor  Child 
or  Gummere.     To  him  it  was  merely  a  narrative  song  by  the 
popular  minstrel.     (Norman  Conquest,  V.,  pp.  586  ff.) 

3—  See  chapt.  3,  p.  73,  of  this  thesis. 

4 —  Clawson,  pp.  121-122.    Gummere,  Popular  Ballad,  p.  274. 


80 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


is  conjecture.  With  things  in  such  a  state,  it  is  hazard- 
ous to  affirm  as  reasonably  certain  that  because  in  Piers 
Plowman  Robin  Hood  and  Randolf  are  mentioned 
together  as  known  in  rimes  to  Sloth,  therefore  the 
rimes  must  have  been  of  the  same  nature,  and  there- 
fore there  must  have  been  ballads  or  a  ballad  cycle 
about  the  Earl  of  Chester.  Yet  that  is  the  inference. 
Once  again  Professor  Gummere  can  help  us  to  an 
answer,  though  indirectly.  In  discussing  the  rank  of 
the  two  men  he  says  r1  ' '  Identifications  of  the  rank  of 
these  two,  often  attempted,  is  absurd  on  the  face  of  it ; 
for  the  cycles  differed  utterly.  Sloth  evidently  held  at 
command  two  groups  of  songs,  one  of  battle  and  feud, 
in  which  the  great  earl  spent  his  half-century  full  in 
the  public  eye,  and  one  of  humbler  origin.  .  .  We  should 
say  now  that  Sloth  had  an  equal  liking  for  history  and 
romance."  In  fact,  what  proof  is  there  that  these 
rimes  were  not  in  themselves  mere  bits  of  historic 
romance?  The  linking  of  the  names  of  Robin  Hood 
and  Earl  Randolf  proves  nothing  more  about  the 
nature  of  the  poetic  form  than  it  does  about  the  rank. 
If  one  but  look  through  a  collection  of  Robin  Hood 
references,  such  as  that  found  in  Ritson's  Introduction,2 
he  will  find  that  our  ballad-hero  is  often  listed  with 
characters  quite  out  of  the  range  of  balladry. 


1—  Popular  Ballad,  p.  273. 

2 —  Eobin  Hood,  Eoutledge,  1884.  Introduction,  Notes  and 
Illustrations,  especially  note  X,  p.  69  f.  Eitson  is  not  here  try- 
ing to  show  what  I  say  the  material  does  show.  I  think  he  could 
have  presented  a  still  more  formidable  list  if  that  had  been  hi? 
intention.  For  instance,  under  note  A.  A.  he  quotes  an  old  libel 
upon  the  priests,  entitled,  ' 1 1  playne  Piers  which  cannot  flatter, ' ' 
d1.  1.  n.  d.,  in  which  there  is  the  following  in  verse,  but  printed 
as  prose:  "You  allow  they  saye  Legenda  aurea,  Boben  Jlode, 
Bevys,  and  Gower,  and  all  bagage  be  syd,  But  gods  word  ye  may 
not  abyde." 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


81 


It  is  a  curious  fact,  perhaps  a  mere  accident,  though 
it  hardly  seems  so,  that  none  of  the  very  early  outlaw 
ballads,  which  have  come  to  us,  deal  with  historical 
characters.  On  the  other  hand,  when  historic  figures 
have  been  the  basis  of  poetic  treatment,  their  stories, 
where  preserved,  have  been  cast  largely  in  the  form 
of  romance.  No  actual  ballads  of  the  Child  type  have 
come  down  to  us,  though  we  have  a  number  of  politi- 
cal songs,  such  as  those  in  the  Harleian  MS.  2253, 1  and 
those  of  Minot,  which  are  not  at  all  ballad-like.  Under 
these  conditions  it  seems  to  me  unwise  to  presuppose 
ballad  cycles  for  any  specific  historical  material.  I 
think  Dr.  Clawson  has  gone  too  far  in  this  direction. 
Even  setting  aside  the  principle,  already  urged,  that 
identity  of  subject-matter  proves  nothing  for  identity 
of  form,  one  may  suggest  that  though  there  are  strik- 
ing parallels  between  Robin  Hood  ballads  and  other 
outlaw  material,  there  are  also  striking  differences. 
The  early  Robin  Hood  is  a  yeoman  archer,  not  a  knight 
or  noble,  and  he  is  entirely  unknown  to  history.  He  is 
not  opposed  to  his  king,  but  to  the  sheriffs  and  some  of 
the  churchmen.  Stories  about  such  a  hero  may  well 
have  arisen  in  an  entirely  different  rank  of  society  from 
the  tales  of  great  lords,  outlawed  for  opposing  their 
sovereign.  The  similarities  between  the  two  types  may 
sometimes  be  the  result  of  borrowing,  and  borrowing  of 
ballad  from  romance.  Robin  Hood  material  is  not  of 
the  kind  found  in  the  simple  ballad.  The  Gest  is  well 
on  the  way  toward  epic  and  romance.  Some  of  the  simi- 
larities, on  the  other  hand,  may  be  due  to  identity  of 


1 — See  chapter  2  for  the  treatment  of  this  MS.  and  the  songs 
of  Minot.  Cf.  the  song  on  Eichard  of  Cornwall,  quoted  in  Percy's 
Eeliques,  as  an  example. 


82 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


experience.  Outlaw  experience  naturally  tends  to  re- 
peat itself. 

Stories  of  adventure  were  very  popular  in  the  Mid- 
dle Ages,  just  as  they  have  been  ever  since.  With  so 
many  in  existence  it  is  no  wonder  if  they  influenced 
one  another  and  tended  to  fix  certain  type  ideals.  In 
order  to  make  a  sympathetic  appeal  there  were  some 
things,  for  instance,  that  every  heroic  outlaw  ought  to 
be  and  do.  The  story  ought  to  make  him  an  exponent 
of  the  class  that  was  to  hear  about  him.  He  ought  to 
have  engaging  personal  traits.  He  ought  to  have  cer- 
tain typical  adventures.  He  ought  to  be  able  to  win  re- 
nown for  himself  and  at  last  be  recognized  and  accepted 
by  the  king.  All  of  this  is  abundantly  illustrated  in  Dr. 
Clawson's  collections.  The  material  is  largely  romance. 
Without  doubt  Robin  Hood  was  directly  influenced  by 
some  of  this  stock  of  traditions,  and  as  time  passed  be- 
came more  and  more  so.  The  influence  of  romance 
can  be  seen  by  comparing  early  and  late  ballads  of 
this  hero.  For  example,  it  must  be  remembered  that  it 
is  only  in  late  ballads  that  Robin  is  made  of  noble 
birth,  is  made  to  fall  in  love  or  is  made  to  have  mar- 
velous adventures.  All  of  this  may  easily  be  due  to 
romance  accretions.  Furthermore,  it  is  not  necessary 
to  suppose  that  it  is  merely  outlaw  material  that  has 
thus  exerted  an  influence.  Some  of  the  traits  com- 
mon to  the  Robin  Hood  ballads  and  to  outlaw  romances 
are  found  in  other  romances  as  well.  Strength  and 
valor  in  the  hero  are  practically  universal.  In  fact, 
Robin  Hood  is  hardly  strong  and  valorous  enough. 
Robin  Hood  meeting  his  match,  rehearsed  again  and 
again  in  later  ballads,  is  also  the  story  of  the  first 
part  of  Robin  Hood  and  the  Potter  (121),  next  to  the 
oldest  Robin  Hood  ballad  that  has  survived.    To  me 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


83 


this  seems  a  plebeian  trait  and  may  well  have  been 
original.1  Also,  the  disguise  expedient  is  not  in  the 
least  distinctive  of  outlaw  material.  Bevis  of  Hamp- 
ton,2 for  instance,  often  uses  disguises.  Again,  near 
the  beginning  of  the  Auchinleck  Merlin,3  that  wizard 
amuses  himself  by  assuming  three  disguises  in  immedi- 
ate succession.  And  perhaps  it  may  be  well  to  suggest 
that  even  today  in  detective  stories,  both  villains  and 
heroes  frequently  disguise  themselves  and  even  venture 
into  the  presence  of  their  enemies.4  Disguise  is  not  pe- 
culiar to  any  type  of  literature  nor  to  any  age.  Sev- 
eral "other  correspondences  pointed  out  by  Dr.  Claw- 
son are  likewise  not  peculiar  to  outlaw  ballads  nor  even 
to  the  general  field  of  romances.  Vague  correspond- 
ences in  woodland  dinners  mean  nothing,5  nor  secret 


1 —  It  seems  to  me  it  is  not  so  much  the  princely  qualities  of 
Eobin  Hood  that  should  be  emphasized,  but  rather  his  qualities  of 
good-fellowship,  give  and  take. 

2 —  Using  the  summary  in  Ellis's  Early  English  Metrical 
Eomances,  Bohn  edition,  1848,  disguise  is  used,  at  least  the  fol- 
lowing number  of  times :  P.  260,  B.  exchanged  clothes  with  a 
palmer;  p.  275,  Josyan  disguises  herself  with  an  ointment;  p.  '276, 
Sir  Saber  as  a  pilgrim;  p.  278,  B.  put  on  the  armour  of  his  ad- 
versary. There  are  other  similarities  in  this  romance  to  ballad 
plots.    Compare  the  childbirth  in  the  woods,  p.  273. 

3—  Hardly  the  beginning:  11.  1977-1985. 

4 —  Melodramas  illustrate  the  same  thing. 

f  5— P.  154.  Dr.  Clawson  treating  Sir  William  Wallace  says: 
* 1  The  attack  and  plunder  of  a  convoy  is  one  of  the  most  char- 
acteristic exploits  of  the  outlaw. 7  7  Instances  in  the  case  of  Fulk 
Fitz-Warine  and  Eobin  Hood  have  been  already  noted  and  the  re- 
semblances between  them  indicated.  This  adventure  of  Wallace 
agrees  with  them  in  that  a  well-guarded  train  of  valuable  baggage 
is  stopped  by  an  inferior  force,  and  after  the  defeat  of  the  guard 
is  plundered  in  a  forest.  In  each  case  a  dinner  in  the  woods  fol- 
lows the  robbery.  (Why  not?)  P.  155:  If  further  proof  of 
Wallace's  outlaw  character  were  needed  it  would  be  furnished  by 
his  skill  at  the  bow,  his  love  of  good  venison,  and  his  dinners  with 
his  men  in  the  greenwood.  Dr.  Clawson  here  draws  a  parallel 
between  a  dinner  in  Wallace  and  in  Eobin  Hood.  The  corre- 
spondences are  not  close,  and  may  be  entirely  the  result  of  the 
limited  range  of  possibilities. 


84 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


visits  to  hostile  towns.  Modern  picnics  are  tediously 
alike,  and  even  outlaws  have  to  get  the  supplies  of 
civilization  once  in  a  while.  Nor  was  there  anything 
strange  about  the  fact  that  a  few  of  Robin  Hood's  band 
held  up  a  large  convoy;  today  it  requires  no  more 
than  two  real  bandits,  or  even  one,  to  hold  up  an  en- 
tire train. 

As  to  the  early  popularity  of  the  various  heroes  of 
the  Robin  Hood  cycle,  it  must  have  been  great, — if  we 
are  to  judge  at  all  from  the  numerous  references  found 
in  both  the  15th  and  16th  centuries.1  No  other  ballad 
names  can  for  a  moment  compare  in  frequency.  Robin 
Hood  is  mentioned  a  dozen  times  in  the  15th  century2 
and  very  often  indeed  in  the  16th.  Yet  the  number 
of  early  versions  of  the  ballads  that  have  survived  to 
us  is  astonishingly  small.  Besides  the  Gest,  for  which 
there  are  several  early  prints,  there  are  but  two  Robin 
Hood  ballads  that  date  in  the  form  we  have  them,  be- 
fore, the  17th  century.3    These  are  "  Robin  Hood  and 


1—  Child,  III,  46.  "That  ballads  about  Eobin  Hood  were 
familiar  throughout  England  and  Scotland  we  know  from  very- 
early  testimony.  Additional  evidence  of  his  celebrity  is  afforded 
by  the  connection  of  his  name  with  a  variety  of  natural  objects 
and  archaic  remains  over  a  wide  extent  of  country."  There  is 
much  material  mentioned. 

2 —  Professor  Child  cites  almost  that  many  references,  and  there 
are  a  few  other  unimportant  references,  such  as  two  in  vol.  I  of 
the  Eeliquiae  Antiquae,  pp.  81  and  84,  both  burlesques.  "The 
sow  sate  on  hye  benke,  and  harpyd  Eobyn  Howde. "  "How 
Eeynall  and  Eobyn-Hod  runnon  at  the  gleyve." 

3 —  Professor  Child  (vol.  Ill,  p.  42)  states  in  a  summary  the 
principal  facts.  In  his  list  of  ballads  in  a  comparatively  ancient 
form,  he  pays  no  attention  to  actual  chronology,  believing  some 
of  those  in  the  Percy  Folio  MIS.  to  be  actually  older  in  form  than 
the  Potter,  No.  121.  In  this  he  was  of  course  entirely  justified. 
The  date  at  which  a  ballad  was  taken  down  proves  nothing  except 
the  latest  date  possible  for  the  composition.  Some  of  the  Eobin 
Hood  ballads  in  the  Percy  Folio,  1650  (such  as  Guy  of  Gisborne), 
are  precisely  in  the  manner  and  style  of  the  Eobin  Hood  and  the 
Monk  of  1450. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


85 


the  Monk"  (119),  found  in  a  fragmentary  state  in  two 
different  manuscripts  of  about  1450,  and  "Robin  Hood 
and  the  Potter"  (121),  found  in  another  manuscript 
of  about  1500.  Many  of  the  best  specimens  of  the  cycle, 
sometimes  in  unique  versions,  are  found  in  the  Percy 
Folio,  which  dates  well  along  in  the  17th  century.  Most 
of  the  other  versions  are  from  late  broadsides,  garlands 
and  chapbooks.  Practically  none  of  the  versions  have 
been  taken  down  from  modern  tradition;  the  few  ex- 
ceptions are  doubtful.1  Also,  none  of  the  ballads  in  the 
shape  we  have  them  can  be  claimed  for  communal 
composition.  All  show  the  hands  of  authors  or  editors, 
and  in  one  or  two  cases  we  have  even  the  name.  The 
"True  Tale  of  Robin  Hood"  (Child,  154) 2  was  written 
by  Martin  Parker,  and  the  "Foolish  Ditty,"  as  Mr. 
Child  calls  it,  of  "Robin  Hood  and  Maid  Marion" 
(150)  ,3  was  signed  by  one  S.  S.  Such  pieces  as  the  latter, 
however,  are  not  to  be  thought  of  as  traditional  ballads. 
They  are  out-and-out  stall  productions,  made  expressly 
for  the  ballad  press.  Professor  Child  has  recognized 
two  ages  for  the  Robin  Hood  cycle,4  the  "golden"  and 
the  "iron  or  cast-iron  age."  Unfortunately,  too  many 
of  the  surviving  ballads  represent  the  latter.5 


1—  Cf.  the  introductions  to  Nos.  132,  134,  135,  138,  140,  144, 
in  the  Child  Collection. 

2—  Child,  vol.  Ill,  227  f. 

3—  Child,  vol.  Ill,  218  f. 

4 —  Child,  vol.  Ill,  159.  He  has  also  recognized  two  cycles,  with 
reference  to  place:  Barnsdale  and  Sherwood.  The  two  are  con- 
fused in  the  Gest.    See  Child,  III,  p.  51. 

5 —  E.  K.  Chambers  seems  to  place  all  Eobin  Hood  ballads  under 
the  latter  category.  ' '  The  extant  Eobin  Hood  ballads  are  certainly 
not  carols;  they  are  probably  not  folk-song  at  all,  but  minstrelsy 
of  a  somewhat  debased  type."  Medieval  Stage,  vol.  I,  ch.  VIII, 
p.  178. 


86 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


But  Robin  Hood  was  not.  only  a  subject  for  ballads  ;* 
his  exploits  were  early  made  use  of  as  the  material  for 
plays.  As  early  as  1473,  Sir  John  Paston2  complain- 
ing of  the  ingratitude  of  his  servants,  mentions  one  who 
had  promised  never  to  desert  him,  "and  ther  uppon," 
says  he,  "I  have  kepyd  him  thys  iii  yer  to  pleye  seynt 
Jorge  and  Robyn  Hod  and  the  shryff  of  Nottyngham, 
and  now  when  I  wolde  have  good  horse  he  is  goon  into 
Bernysdale,  and  I  without  a  keeper."  It  is  not  im- 
probable that  we  have  a  fragment  of  this  very  Robin 
Hood  play.3  It  is  crude,  and  of  a  different  meter  from 
any  of  the  ballads  of  the  cycle.  The  material  without 
much  doubt  is  the  same  as  that  in  Robin  Hood  and  Guy 
of  Gisborne  (118),  though  the  name  of  the  latter  is  not 
mentioned.  Two  other  early  Robin  Hood  plays  are 
printed  at  the  end  of  Copland's  edition  of  the  Gest  (ca. 
1550). 4  These  are  founded  on  "Robin  Hood  and  the 
Potter"  (121)  and  on  "Robin  Hood  and  the  Curtal 
Friar"  (123).  In  neither  does  the  outlaw  act  an  heroic 
part.    In  the  first  he  is  especially  ignominious,  for  he 

1 —  The  Eobin  Hood  idea  had  marvelous  attracting  power.  The 
name  was  surely  one  to  conjure  with.  Interesting  evidences  of 
the  power  of  the  name  to  bring  outside  material  into  the  cycle 
is  to  be  seen  in  the  following:  The  story  of  "Erlington"  in 
version  (Child,  No.  8,  vol.  I)  has  been  made  into  a  Eobin  Hood 
ballad.  In  Munday  and  Chettles  Downfall  of  Robert,  Earl  of 
Huntington,  besides  other  material  there  is  what  seems  to  be  a 
clear  reference  to  the  Friar  in  the  Well  as  a  Eobin  Hood  story: 
"For  merry  ieasts,  they  have  been  showne  before,  /  as  how  the 
Friar  fell  into  the  Well,  /  for  love  of  Jinny  that  faire  bonny 
belle,"  etc. 

2 —  The  words  of  Paston  here  quoted  from  Ritson,  Robin  Hood, 
p.  96. 

3—  The  play  is  quoted  in  Child  III,  p.  90  f.,  also  in  Manly 's 
Specimens  of  Pre- Shakespearian  Drama,  I,  279  f.  The  original 
was  formerly  among  Sir  John  Fenn's  papers.  He  was  the  early 
editor  of  the  Paston  Letters.  He  may  therefore  have  got  this 
sheet  from  Paston  7s  papers. 

4—  Both  reprinted  in  Child  III,  p.  127  f.  and  114.  Also  in 
Manly,  p.  281  f. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


87 


is  made  to  pick  his  quarrel  not  with  the  Potter  but 
with  the  Potter's  boy.  Both  pieces  show  the  changes 
in  plot  and  meter  from  the  companion  ballads.  Each, 
however,  is  much  more  ballad-like  than  the  first  dra- 
matic fragment  mentioned.  Perhaps  all  these  plays 
were  intended  for  acting  at  the  May  games.  At  least 
Robin  Hood  became  a  stock  figure  in  these  popular 
entertainments  by  the  first  half  of  the  16th  century.1 
He  even  got  connected  with  the  Morris-dance  and  with 
Maid  Marion.2 


1 —  Cf.  Child  III,  pp.  44  f .  Eitson  had  much  to  say  about  the 
subject.    See  his  Eobin  Hood,  notes  and  illustrations,  E.  E. 

2—  Mr.  E.  K.  Chambers,  in  his  Medieval  Stage  (Oxford,  1903 ), 
vol.  I,  chapt.  VIII,  p.  175  f.,  discusses  this  phase  of  the  subject. 
He  explains  how  in  his  opinion,  Eobin  Hood  and  Maid  Marion 
became  connected  in  balladry.  He  says :  1 '  It  is  noticeable  that 
whereas  in  the  May-games  Eobin  and.  Maid  Marion  are  insepa- 
rable, in  the  early  ballads  Maid  Marion  has  no  part.  She  is  barely 
mentioned  in  one  or  two  of  the  latest  ones.  Moreover,  Marion  is 
not  an  English  but  a  French  name;  and  we  have  already  seen 
that  Eobin  and  Marion  are  the  typical  sheperd  and  sheperdess  of 
the  pastourelles  and  of  Adam  de  la  Hale's  dramatic  jeu  founded 
on  these.  I  suggest,  then,  that  the  names  were  introduced  by 
the  minstrels  into  English  and  transferred  from  the  French  Fetes 
du  mai  to  the  1  lord '  and  1  lady  \  of  the  corresponding  English  May- 
games.  -Eobin  Hood  grew  up  independently  from  heroic  canti- 
lenae,  but  owing  to  the  similarity  of  name  he  was  identified  with 
the  other  Eobin,  and  brought  Little  Jack,  Friar  Tuck  and  the- 
rest  with  him  into  the  May-games.  On  the  other  hand,  Maid 
Marion,  who  does  not  properly  belong  to  heroic  legend,  was  in 
turn  naturally  enough  adopted  into  the  later  ballads."  A  long; 
list  of  songs  and  of  references  to  1 '  Eobin, ' 7  not  the  ballad  hero,, 
could  be  made  up,  ranging  from  Chaucer  on.  Not  every  Eobin 
was  Eobin  Hood.  There  was  thus  much  opportunity  for  con- 
fusion.   Cf.  Chaucer  Troilus  V,  1.  1174: 

"From  hazel-wode,  ther  Joly  Eobin  pleyde, 
Shal  come  al  that  thou  abydest  here; 
Ye,  f  are-wel  al  the  snow  of  f  erne  yere !  ' ' 

This  speech  of  Pandarus  is  explained  by  Skeat  in  his  note  to  the 
passage  as  a  jocular  form  of  expressing  unlikelihood.  He  says 
there  is  evidently  a  reference  to  some  popular  song  or  saying.  He 
cites  the  Eomaunt  of  the  Eose  7455,  as  containing  an  allusion  to 
a  joly  Eobin  who  was  a  gay  dancer  and  a  minstrel,  and  the  exact 
opposite  of  a  Jacobin  Friar.    In  the  Eomaunt  passages  Joly  Eobin 


88 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Toward  the  end  of  the  16th  century  Robin  Hood 
entered  the  literary  drama.  Ritson  has  printed  extracts 
and  synopses  of  several  plays  in  which  he  figured,  as 
well  as  the  names  of  a  number  of  later  operas  in  which 


seems  to  be  the  name  of  a  dance  or  character  in  a  dance;  Skeat 
makes  it  a  character  in  a  rustic  dance: 

' '  That  he,  the  whylom  was  so  gay, 
And  of  the  daunce  Joly  Eobin, 
Was  tho  become  a  Jacobin." 

In  "King  Edward  III  and  the  Shepperd77  in  a  MS.  dating  about 
1450  (Ff.  5.  48b.,  Cambridge  University  Library),  the  king  in 
reply  to  the  shepperd  gives  to  himself  the  name  of  Joly  Robin. 
In  '  'King  Edward  and  the  Hermit,"  a  story  of  about  the  same 
type  and  age,  the  king  goes  to  Sherwood  forest  to  hunt.  The 
same  is  true  for  ' '  King  Henry  II  and  the  Miller  of  Mansfield. ' ' 

1 '  Joly  Eobin 7 7  poems  are  very  common  in  the  16th  century. 
The  clown  in  Twelfth  Night  (Act  IV,  sc.  2)  sings  of  a  "  jolly 
Robin 7 7  whose  lady  ' '  loves  another. 7  7  And  Ophelia  sang 
"bonny  sweet  Robin  is  all  my  joy. 77  These  songs  are  found 
elsewhere.  There  are  two  versions  of  the  music  in  William  Ballet  7s 
Lute  Book,  one  entitled  "Robin  is  to  the  greenwood  gone, 77  and 
the  "Robin  Hood  is  to  the  greenwood  gone. 77 

There  is  a  reference  to  "Joly  Robyn  lend  to  me  the  bowe,7'  in 
Harleian  MS.  7578.  This  is  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  but  in 
Bassus,  1530,  there  is  a  reference  in  a  medley,  "blow  my  home 
behynde  cu  blow.  A  torne  agayne  robyn  and  bende  on  thy  bow 
wt  torne  ageyne  Robyne  and  bend  on  thy  bow. 77  (See  Fliigel's 
Anglia  XII,  589  f.  (?),  597.) 

In  Jonson7s  Sad  Sheperd,  Robin  Hood  is  referred  to  at  the 
beginning  of  the  second  act  as  1 1  the  jolly  Robin. 7  7 

Robin  Hood  may  be  mixed  up  with  some  of  the  songs,  but  not 
all.  Cotgrave  in  his  dictionnaire  of  1611  defines  Chanson  de  Bobin 
as  a  "  merrie  and  extemporall  song,  or  fashion  of  singing,  whereto 
one  is  ever  adding  somewhat,  or  may  at  pleasure,  what  he  list. 77 
This  is  for  France,  of  course,  but  it  fits  very  well  what  we  might 
suppose  an  English  communal  ballad  might  be. 

As  for  Lyttell  John,  he  gives  his  name  to  a  "  book  of  courtesy. 7  7 
See  vol.  Ill  of  Early  English  Text  Society,  Extra  Series.  Prob- 
ably no  connection  with  the  ballad  Little  John. 

Another  Robert  than  our  hero  seems  to  be  referred  to  in 
numerous  passages  about  ' 1  Robertes  men, 7  7  that  have  come  to  us 
from  the  14th  century.  There  is  a  reference  in  text  A  of  Piers 
Plowman : 

"Bidders  and  Beggars  faste  aboute  eoden,  /  Til  heor  Bagges 
&  heore  Balies,  weren  [bratful]  I  crommet;  /  Feyneden  hem  for 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


39 


he  was  given  a  role.1  While  some  of  this  material 
affected  the  stall  tradition  and  changed  over  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  hero  somewhat,  the  changes  are  not 
of  enough  importance  to  traditional  balladry  to  war- 
rant discussion  here. 

We  have  said  much  about  the  popularity  of  the  Robin 
Hood  ballads,  but  from  the  very  beginning  there  were 
many  people,  especially  of  the  graver  sort,  who  heartily 
despised  them.  Thus  the  author  of  the  Piers  Plowman 
passage  is  clearly  not  in  sympathy  with  the  outlaw 
hero,  and  from  that  reference  on  down  through  the 
centuries  a  large  proportion  of  the  notices  are  either 
hostile  to  the  far-famed  Robin  or  at  least  they  make 


heore  foode  fouzten  atte  alle;  /  In  Glotonye,  God  wot,  gon  heo 
to  Bedde,  /  And  ryseth  vp  wip  ribaudye  pis  Eoberdes  knaues : ' ' 
Prof.  Skeat,  11.  40  fid.  Skeat  in  his  separate  edition  of  text  B  for 
the  Clarendon  Press,  1888,  has  this  note  to  the  passage :  ' '  Com- 
pare '  And  ryght  as  Eobertes  men  raken  (wander)  aboute, 

At  feires  &  at  ful  ales  &  fyllen  the  cuppe.'    Piers  Plowmans 
Crede,  1.  72. 

"Bobartes  men,  or  Boberdsmen,  were  a  set  of  lawless  vaga- 
bonds, notorious  for  their  outrages  when  Piers  Plowman  was 
written.  The  statute  of  Edward  III  (Annual  Eegister  5  c,  XIV) 
specifies  11  divers  manslaughters,  felonies,  and  robberies,  done  by 
people  that  he  called  Roberdesmen,  Wastours,  and  drawlatches," 
and  the  statutes  of  Eichard  II  (An.  Eeg.  7,  c.  V)  ordains,  that 
the  statute  of  King  Edward  concerning  Roberdesmen,  and  draw- 
lacches  should  be  vigourously  observed.  Sir  Edward  Coke  (Instit. 
Ill,  197)  supposes  them  to  have  been  originally  the  followers  of 
Robin  Hood  in  the  reign  of  Eichard  I.  See  Blackstone  7s  Comm. 
bk.  IV,  ch.  17,  Warton's  Hist,  of  English  Poetry,  vol.  II,  p.  95, 
ed.  1840.  William  of  Nassygton  says  that  they  tried  the  latches 
of  people 's  doors,  contrived  to  get  into  houses,  and  then  extorted 
money,  either  by  some  lying  tale  or  playing  the  bully. ,; 

In  the  5th  Passus,  the  same  Passus  that  contains  in  text  B  the 
Eobin  Hood  reference,  there  is  an  account  of  1 1  Eobert  the  rob- 
ber, ' '  11.  469  ff .  If  there  is  any  connection  between  these  Eoberts 
and  Eobin  Hood  I  should  be  inclined  to  think  the  Eobin  Hood  the 
suggesting  power,  but  that  is  mere  conjecture. 


1— Eobin  Hood,  Note  W,  pp.  45  ff.  Compare  also  Child  III, 
p.  46. 


90 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


light  of  him.1  Ritson  quotes  a  great  deal  of  material 
that  illustrates  this  other  side.2    Robin  Hood  also  very 

1 —  In  the  "  Image  of  Ypocresye, "  1533,  (Ball.  Soc.  Ballads 
from  MS.  1,  pp.  181  f£.,)  there  occurs  an  interesting  reference  at 
11.  1530  ff.,  which  shows  a  love  of  the  clergy  for  the  hero,  and  also 
that  the  stories  were  then  felt  to  be  as  old  as  Noah's  flood.'  The 
author  says  against  preachers: 

Thus  these  sysmatickes  (1522) 
And  lomsy  lunatickes 
With  spurres  and  prickes 
Call  true  men  heretickes. 
They  finger  ther  fidles, 
And  cry  in  quinibles, 
"Away  these  bibles 
For  they  be  but  ridles! 
And  give  hem  robyn  whode,  (1530) 
To  red  howe  he  stode 
In  mery  grene  wode, 
When  he  gathered  gode 
Before  noyes  ffloode ! " 
Also  in  Eay  and  Barlowe's  Bed  me  and  be  nott  wrothe  (Stras- 
burg,  1528,  Arber  Eeprint)  there  is  a  similar  kind  of  allusion. 
In  a  brief  dialogue  between  the  priest's  two  servants  Watkyn  and 
Jeffraye  there  is  a  discussion  of  the  Mass  "with  its  abominable 
ministers, ' '  Popes,  Cardinals,  Bishops,  etc.    Toward  the  end  of  the 
1st  part  Jeffrey  speaks  of  the  restraints  the  bishops  try  to  impose 
upon  reading: 

"Wherefore  they  have  now  restrayned 
Under  the  payne  of  courssynge 
That  no  laye  man  do  rede  or  loke 
In  eny  frutfull  englisshe  boke 
Wholy  scripture  conceruynge. 
Their  frantyke  foly  is  so  pevisshe 
That  they  contempne  in  Englisshe 
To  have  the  newe  Testament. 
But  as  for  tales  of  Robyn  hode 
With  wowther  jestes  nether  honest  nor  goode 
They  have  none  impediment. 
Their  madde  unsavery  teachynges 
And  theyr  fantasticall  preachynges 
Among  simple  folk  to  promote, 
For  no  cost  they  spare  nor  stynte 
Openly  to  put  them  in  prynte 
Treadynge  scripture  under  their  fote. " 
Alex.  Barclay  also  has  material  showing  what  a  favorite  Eobin 
Hood  was  with  the  clergy ;  cf.  Shyp  of  Folys,  Janison's  ed.  Edin- 
burgh 1874,  I,  71-74.    In  II,  153-157,  we  are  told  that  even  the 
priests  in  the  choir  during  divine  service  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  tell  each  other  of  the  exploits  of  Robin  Hood. 

2 —  Robin  Hood,  Introduction,  passim. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


91 


early  got  into  burlesque  medleys  without  point  or 
sense,  and  continued  in  them,  and  is  there  often  found 
in  literary  company  passing  strange.  The  Reliquiae 
Antiquae1  contains  at  least  two  such  pieces  from  a  15th- 
century  manuscript  in  the  Advocates  Library  in  Edin- 
burgh. In  both  alliteration  plays  a  conspicuous  part, 
in  one  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  rime.  They  read  in 
immediate  context : 

"The  breme  went  rownd  abowte,  and  lette  horn  all 
blode ; 

The  sow  sate  on  hye  benke,  and  harpyd  Robyn  Howde." 
And 

"Kene  men  of  combur  comen  belyve, 

For  to  mote  of  mychewhat  more  than  a  lytull, 

How  Reynall2  and  Robyn-Hod  runnon  at  the  gleyve. ' ' 

The  Reliquiae  Antiquae  contains  a  medley  from  the 
early  16th  century  that  is  just  about  as  edifying  :3 

"Robyne  is  gone  to  Hu[n]tyngton, 
To  bye  our  gose  a  flayle; 
Lyke  Spip,  my  yongest  son, 
Was  huntyng  of  a  snalle. 
Newes !    newes ! ' ' 

The  medley  toward  the  end  of  the  "Interlude  of  the 


1 —  Eeliquiae  Antiquae,  Scraps  from  Ancient  Manuscripts,  edited 
by  Thomas  Wright  and  J.  O.  Halliwell,  2  volumes,  1845.  Vol.  I, 
pp.  81  and  84.    From  MS.  Jac.  V,  7,  27. 

2 —  Keynold  is  mentioned  in  the  Gest,  as  the  assumed  name  of 
Little  John,  Third  Fit;  also  as  the  name  of  a  separate  outlaw 
in  the  Fifth  Fit,  st.  293. 

3—  Vol.  I,  p.  239.  MS.  Cotton  Vespas,  A.  XXV.  fol.  135  temp. 
Henry  VIII.  The  reference  to  Huntington  is  interesting-  because 
Eobin  in  the  last  part  of  the  16th  century  was  supposed  to  have 
been  the  Earl  of  Huntington. 


92 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Four  Elements"  has  frequently  been  referred  to  and 
quoted  for  its  beginning  line  i1 

"Robyn  Hode  in  Barnysdale  stode 
And  lent  hym  tyl  a  mapyll  thystyll ; 
Then  cam  Our  lady  and  swete  saynt  Andrewe; 
Slepyst  thou,  wakyst  thou,  Geffrey  Coke?"  etc. 

These  lines  echo  the  Gest,  though  they  do  not  quote  it. 
They  are  not,  however,  sober  enough  to  warrant  the 
belief  in  any  lost  ballad  or  even  in  any  variant  of  what 
we  have.  They  are  merely  early  examples  of  the  dregs 
of  song  material.  Robin  Hood,  at  once  extremely  popu- 
lar and  much  despised,  was  just  the  right  sort  of  figure 
to  be  introduced  and  lightly  handled  in  that  sort  of 
trash.2 

In  this  chapter  we  are  not  interested  in  any  sort  of 
ballad  material  except  that  dealing  with  outlawry,  and 
besides  Robin  Hood  and  his  companions,  the  only  other 
early  ballad  outlaws  are  the  three  who  jointly  give  their 
names  to  the  miniature  "gest"  of  "Adam  Bell,  Clim  of 
the  Clough,  and  William  of  Cloudesly"  (Child,  116). 
Of  course  "Robyn  and  Gandeleyn"3  have  been  branded 
as  outlaws  too,  but  merely  for  the  sake  of  getting  them 
into  more  famous  company.  Of  course  the  name  Robyn 
in  Robin  and  Gandeleyn  is  somewhat  like  Gamelyn,  but 
that  is  the  only  evidence  against  them.  We  are  dis- 
tinctly told  they  were  not  strong  thieves,4  and  that  the" 
deer  Robin  shot  was  not  marked.    They  were  no  more 


1 —  Eitson,  Robin  Hood,  note  X,  pp.  76,  77.  Also  Percy  Society, 
No.  74,  edited  by  J.  O.  Halliwell. 

2 —  There  are  still  other  such  medleys:  Bassns  (1530),  re- 
printed by  Flugel,  Anglia,  XII,  589  f.  (See  note  to  Chapt.  3,  p. 
87  of  this  thesis.) 

3—  Child,  No.  115. 

4—  Sts.  21  and  4\ 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


93 


outlaws  than  was  Johnie  Cock,1  though  they  may  have 
been  poachers.2 

The  "Adam  Bell"  ballad  has  many  points  of  simi- 
larity with  the  Gest  of  Robin  Hood.  Neither  is  a 
simple  ballad,  nor  made  up  directly  of  what  Dr.  Hart 
would  classify  as  simple  material.  Both  show  consid- 
erable epic  development  as  well  in  plot  as  in  the  set- 
tings, characterization,  and  other  phases  of  handling 
material.  For  neither  have  any  original  simple  bal- 
lads survived.  Both  got  into  print  early3  and  have 
survived  to  us  only  in  that  form.4  There  is  similarity 
also  in  general  point  of  view,  and  there  is  even  some 
parallelism  in  the  material  used.5  More  stress  in  the 
Adam  Bell  is  laid  on  town  and  court  and  not  so  much 
on  the  greenwood.  Also  the  cult  of  the  Virgin  is  lack- 
ing. Otherwise  it  would  seem  that  Adam  Bell  grew 
up  under  about  the  same  conditions  as  the  Gest.  In 
geographical  situation  it  belongs  to  nearly  the  same 
part  of  England,6  though  again  no  more  of  an  histori- 
cal basis  can  be  assured  for  it  than  for  the  Robin  Hood 


1—  Child,  No.  114. 

2 —  There  are  numerous  Forester  poems;  cf.  Chambers  and  Sidg- 
wick,  Early  English  Lyrics,  for  their  examples.  Notice  especially 
No.  CXLV,  which  has  parallel  questions  beginning  each  stanza. 
"The  King  and  the  Shepherd"  and  the  "King  and  the  Hermit,' ' 
might  well  be  counted  "poacher  poems,"  though  not  ballad-like  in 
structure. 

3 —  They  are  the  two  earliest  ballads  printed.  The  Gest  goes 
back  to  sometime  before  the  beginning  of  the  16th  century,  the 
Adam  Bell  to  two  fragments  of  an  edition  of  John  Byddell,  Lon- 
don, 1536. 

4 —  Adam  Bell  is  found  also  in  the  Percy  Folio  MS. 

5 —  Professor  Child  points  out  resemblances  in  the  Introduction 
to  Adam  Bell,  No.  116,  III,  p.  16,  and  p.  22. 

6 —  Scene  laid  at  Inglewood  and  Carlisle;  that  is,  the  northwest 
part  of  England. 


94 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


cycle.1  Nor  does  there  seem  to  be  any  probability  that 
it  has  a  mythological  basis.2  As  we  have  it  the  "Adam 
Bell"  seems  no  more  than  an  interesting  story  that  may 
have  originated  before,  at  the  same  time,  or  later  than 
the  first  Robin  Hood  ballads.  There  is  nothing  to  fix 
the  relative  date.  The  "Adam  Bell"  group  was  very 
popular,  though  if  we  are  to  judge  from  the  number  of 
citations,  it  never  had  quite  so  extended  a  fame  as  the 
Robin  Hood  cycle.3  Still,  that  is  hardly  a  fair  test. 
Robin  Hood  was  early  used  for  other  literary  forms 
"than"  the  ballad.  Then,  too,  a  large  number  of  stories 
clustered  about  his  name.  We  have  no  sure  evidence 
for  more  than  one  extended  tale4  for  the  "Adam  Bell" 


1—  Child  (III,  21)  seems  to  have  effectually  disposed  of  Mr. 
Hunter's  attempt  to  prove  Adam  Bell  a  "genuine  personage  of 
history. ' ' 

2 —  :See  Chapt.  3,  p.  74,  note  6,  of  this  thesis. 

3 —  The  following  are  some  of  the  chief  early  references :  Wil- 
liam Dunbar,  Sir  Thomas  Norray,  ed.  by  Schipper,  p.  203,  stanza 
V.  "  Was  never  wyld  Eobeine  wuder  hewch,  /  Nor  zet  Eoger  of 
Clekkniskleuch,  /  So  bauld  a  barne  as  he ;  /  Guy  of  Gisborne,  na 
Adam  Bell,  /  Na  Simones  sonne  of  Inhynfell,  /  At  schot  was  never 
so  slie. "  (Schipper  suggests  that  Eoger  of  Clekkniskleuch  is  pos- 
sibly to  be  identified  with  "Clim  of  the  Cleuch, '  '.but  I  see  no  com- 
pelling reason.)  The  family  of  Simones  is  also  mentioned  as  the 
name  of  an  old  song  in  Cockelbie  Sow,  line  314.  Inhynfell  is 
Whinfell,  a  part  of  Inglewood.     See  Schipper. 

4 —  Thinking  over  the  references  already  quoted  I  think  we  may 
be  absolutely  sure  that  there  were  other  ballads  about  these  heroes. 
In  the  first  place,  the  ballad  we  have  is  devoted  almost  entirely  to 
William  of  Cloudesly.  It  is  he  that  is  married,  he  that  makes  the 
■visit, :  is  captured,  and  rescued,  and  it  is  he  that  plays  the  im- 
portant part  in  the  interview  with  the  king.  Clim  of  the  Clough 
is  a  very  subordinate  figure,  yet  in  the  literary  references  it  is 
Clim  that  gets  most  frequent  mention.  G waiter  Lynne,  printer, 
1550,  wished  all  to  read  "the  true  belief e  in  Christ  and  his  sacra- 
mentes.  Not  as  they  haue  bene  tofore  accustomed  to  reade  the 
fained  storyes  of  Eobin-Hode,  Clem  of  the  Cloughe,  wyth  such 
lyke  to  passe  the  tyme  wythal,"  etc.  3  Eitson,  p.  77-78.  Dray- 
ton, sixth  eclogue,  Eitson,  p.  73:  "And  let  us  tell  of  Gawen,  or 
Sir  Guy,  /  Of  Eobin  Hood,  or  of  Old  Clem  a  Clough."  There  is  a 
reference  in  Nash  Pierce  Penilease  His  Supplication  to  the  Divell, 
London,  1592,  Collier  reprint,  p.  58,  that  I  have  never  seen  referred 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


95 


group,  though  in  the  numerous  references  in  the  ballad 
sometimes  it  is  one  of  the  heroes  and  sometimes  another 
that  is  mentioned.  If  there  was  but  the  one  ballad  cur- 
rent from  the  16th  century  on,  it  must  have  been  very 
popular.  The  one  we  have  passed  through  many  early 
editions,  the  earliest  of  the  year  1536,1  and  it  was  still 
frequently  reprinted  in  the  17th  and  18th  centuries.2 
Such  is  in  brief  the  general  history  of  the  ballad. 

We  have  finished  now  with  the  early  outlaw  ballads, 
but  there  remains  one  other  very  early  poem  dealing 
with  outlaws  and  showing  ballad  afiinities,  though  not 
itself  a  ballad,  which  deserves  very  careful  attention. 
It  is  "The  Tale  of  Gamelyn, "  found  in  over  a  dozen 
of  the  Chaucer  MSS.3  It  is  given  as  the  Cook's  Tale 
in  the  manuscripts,  but  not  since  the  days  of  Tyrwhitt 
has  any  scholar  believed  it  to  be  the  work  of  Chaucer. 
The  opinion  of  many  scholars  is  that  it  was  perhaps 


to  and  I  can  make  nothing  out  of  it.  The  author  is  against  drink- 
ing. This  one  vice  obscures  all  virtues.  Then — ' 1  Clim  of  the 
Clough,  thou  that  usest  to  drinke  nothing  but  scalding  lead  and 
sulphur  in  hell,  thou  art  not  so  greedie  of  thy  night  geare.  O!  but 
thou  hast  a  foule  swallow  if  it  come  once  to  the  carousing  of 
human  bloud;  but  thats  but  seldome,  once  in  seaven  yeare,  when 
theres  a  great  execution,  otherwise  thou  art  tide  at  rack  and 
manger,  and  drinkst  nothing  but  the  aqua  vitae  of  vengeance  all 
thy  life  time.  The  proverbe  gives  it  foorth  thou  art  a  knave,  and 
therefore  I  have  more  hope  thou  art  some  manner  of  a  good  fel- 
lowe:  let  mee  intreate  thee  (since  thou  hast  other  iniquities  inough 
to  circumvent  us  withall)  to  wype  this  sinne  out  of  the  catalogue 
of  thy  subtilties:  helpe  to  blast  the  vines,  and  sowre  the  wines 
in  the  cellers  and  merchant's  storehouses." 


1—  Cf.  Child,  III,  p.  14.  Child  states  that  "  Seven  reprints  of 
the  seventeenth  century  later  than  d  (London,  1605)  are  noted  by 
Mr.  W.  C.  Hazlitt's  Handbook,  p.  35. 

2 —  Adam  Bell  was  one  of  the  ballads  mentioned  by  Gray  in  his 
notes  entitled  "Observations  on  English  Meter." 

3 —  Miss  Hammond  names  16  MSS.  in  her  ■' 4  Chaucer,  a  Biblio- 
graphical Manual,"  1908,  p.  425.  The  exact  bibliography  for  all 
the  facts  presented  are  given  bv  Miss  Hammond  at  this  place,  pp. 
425-6. 


96 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


included  among  the  latter 's  papers  as  the  raw  material 
to  be  worked  over  and  assigned  to  some  pilgrim  (pos- 
sibly) to  the  Squire's  Yeoman.  However  that  may  ber 
the  poem  belongs  to  an  entirely  different  world  from 
anything  in  Chaucer ;  and  in  one  or  two  of  the  sections 
gives  us  a  very  popular  view  of  the  woodland  life.  If 
it  was  among  the  Chaucer  papers,  the  text  as  we  have 
it  must  come  from  a  manuscript  of  the  14th  century, 
though  it  has  not  directly  survived  in  any  of  that  date. 
Several  points  about  the  story  lead  one  to  believe  that 
it  must  have  been  put  together  early.  While  there  is 
nothing  to  show  that  it  arose  before  the  individual  bal- 
lads of  Robin  Hood,  the  mention  of  an  unnamed  "king 
of  the  outlaws"  would  point  to  its  having  taken  shape 
before  Robin  Hood  had  acquired  a  national  reputation. 
In  later  times  the  "king"  would  surely  have  borne 
the  latter 's  name.  As  it  is,  the  poem  has  nothing  to 
do  with  the  Robin  Hood  cycle,  though  there  are  many 
points  of  contact.  There  is  no  reason  for  identifying 
Gamelyn  with  Gamwell1  or  Gamble  with  Gold,2  nor 
with  still  another  ballad  hero,  Gandeleyn.3  The  story 
for  each  is  different. 

"The  Tale  of  Gamelyn"  is  a  right  good  narrative, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  Chaucer  did  think 
of  using  it  as  the  basis  for  work  of  his  own.  He  is  not 
the  only  one  that  the  plot  has  attracted.  It  is  good  to 
read  as  it  is.  and  it  has  acquired  additional  fame  as 
being  the  source  of  Lodge's  Rosalynde  (1590) 4  and  still 
later  as  the  indirect  and  perhaps  partly  direct  source 


1—  Child,  Nos.  149,  128,  129. 

2—  Child,  No.  132. 

3—  Child,  No.  115. 

4 —  Thomas  Lodge,  Kosalynde: 
sell  ed. 


Enphues  Golden  Legacie,  Cas- 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


07 


of  Shakespeare's  As  You  Like  It.1  The  "Tale"  is 
divided  into  seven  rather  loose  sections,  six  of  which 
begin  with  some  such  call  for  attention  as — 

"Lithcth  and  lestneth  and  hcrkncth  aright 

And  yc  sehulle  hccrc  a  talking  of  a  doughty  knight." 

The  Opening  line  of  two  of  the  sections, 

"Lithcth  and  lestneth  and  holdeth  your  tonge," 

shows  how  uncourtly  the  piece  is  at  times. 

The  story  is  as  follows:  Sir  Iohan  of  Boundys  had 
three  sons.  At  his  death  the  property,  quite  against 
his  expressed  desire,  A\as  divided  between  the  elder 
to  sons,  leaving  tin*  youngest.  (Iamelyn.  out  of  <  onsidera- 
tion.  When  the  latter  grew  up  he  rebelled  at  the 
tyranny  of  his  oldest  brother,  and  put  the  latter  and 
his  men  to  flight.  Soft  words  and  flattering  promises, 
however,  easily  beguiled  the  youth,  and  the  part  ends 
•with  him  satisfied.  The  next  division  (11.  169-288) 
gives  us  the  story  of  a  wrestling  match  in  which  Game- 
lyn  won  a  mosl  notable  victory.  Part  three  (11.  289- 
340)  relates  how  (iamelyn  returned  home  with  a  host 
of  companions  only  to  be  denied  entrance  by  the  porter. 
Oamelyn  kicked  in  the  gate,  caught  the  porter,  broke 
his  neck  and  threw  him  in  a  well.2  Then  the  company 
feasted  for  a  week  on  the  brother's  hoarded  wine.  In 

1 —  Zupitza,  Jahrbuch  tier  deutsohen  ^hakspere  Gesellschaft,. 
XXI,  p.  69  f.,  argues  that  Sliakspere  had  as  good  a  chance  to 
know  the  talc  directly  as  Lodge,  and  he  thinks  there  are  evidences 
that  the  dramatist  used  it  directly  as  well  as  the  Rosalynde. 

2 —  This  treatment  similar  to  that  bestowed  on  the  porter  in 
Adam  Bell,  stanza  05.  Dr.  Clawson  calls  attention  to  this  simi- 
larity and  adds  another  parallel,  from  the  Wallace.  Harry,  V, 
1020-23.  He  notes  the  situations  are  different,  but  thinks  "the  re- 
semblance may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  this  was  the  traditional 
way  for  outlaws  to  treat  hostile  porters."  (P.  184,  Thesis.)  How- 
ever, it  may  be  suggested  that  murderers  at  the  present  time  often 
throw  their  victims'  bodies  in  old  wells,  pits,  and  other  out-of-the- 
way  places. 


98 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  next  part  (341-550)  Gamelyn,  again  deceived,, 
allowed  himself  to  be  fettered  to  a  post  in  the  hall.1 
For  two  days  and  nights  he  had  nothing  to  eat.  Peo- 
ple were  told  he  was  mad.  At  last,  however,  Adam 
Spencer  came  to  his  relief  and  the  two  executed  dire 
vengeance  on  a  considerable  number  of  various  orders 
of  the  clergy,  who  had  come  to  dine  at  the  invitation 
of  the  eldest  brother.  In  part  five  (551-614)  Gamelyn 
and  Adam  had  to  fight  with  the  sheriff 's  men  who  came 
to  the  help  of  the  deceitful  brother.  The  two  seeing 
the  number  too  great  for  them  made  their  escape  to 
the  woods.  The  sixth  part  (11.  615-768)  gives  us  a  pic- 
ture of  the  outlaw  life.  Gamelyn  was  received  by  the 
king  of  the  outlaws  and  made  master  under  him.  The 
former  soon  afterwards  made  his  peace  with  the  law, 
upon  which  Gamelyn  himself  became  head-master. 
News  then  reached  the  outlaws  that  the  oldest  brother 
iiad  been  made  sheriff  and  had  used  his  new  power  to 
indict  Gamelyn  and  declare  him  a  wolf's-head.  The 
latter,  vexed,  was  as  heedless  as  ever.  He  visited  the 
next  shire-meet  and  was  promptly  captured.  Sir  Ote, 
however,  the  second  brother,  whose  name  now  first 
appears,  came  to  the  rescue  and  got  his  release  by 
standing  security.  In  the  last  section  (769-902)  Game- 
lyn returned  from  the  wildwood  with  his  outlaw  com- 
panions at  the  right  moment  to  save  the  neck  of  Sir 
Ote,2  who  had  been  condemned  to  die  in  his  place. 


1 —  Dr.  Clawson  states  a  parallel  from  tlie  Wallace  where  Sir 
J.  Menteith  uses  a  similar  device  to  bind  that  hero.  Harry,  XI, 
1057  ff.  Clawson,  p.  184.  Several  other  correspondences  to  Wal- 
lace and  other  romances  are  pointed  out. 

2 —  Dr.  Clawson  thinks  this  episode  corresponds  in  motive  to  the 
rescue  of  Sir  Eichard  at  the  Lee  in  the  Gest,  stanzas  340  f.  I 
must  confess  I  see  no  very  close  parallel.  Another  parallel  is  that 
between  Gamelyn  826-8,  and  Eobin  Hood  and  the  Monk  (119)  st. 
71,  1-2.    Clawson,  188.    Adam  Bell  (116)  st.  66. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


99 


Short  work  was  made  of  Sheriff,  Justice  and  the  jurors. 
Gamelyn  himself  held  court,  condemned  them  all  to 
be  hung,  and  promptly  executed  the  sentence.1  Then 
the  band  of  outlaws  made  peace  with  the  king;2  the 
latter  loved  Sir  Ote  and  made  him  Justice.  Gamelyn 
became  Chief  Justice  of  all  his  free  forest,  and  the  rest 
of  the  band  were  likewise  rewarded  with  good  posi- 
tions. In  course  of  time  Gamelyn  married,  and  later 
died,  and  so  shall  we  all : 

"God  bringe  us  to  the  Ioye  that  ever  shall  be." 
Such  is  the  "Tale  of  Gamelyn."  It  is  a  vigorous 
enough  story  with  plenty  of  boisterous  action,  but  the 
intellectual  appeal  is  nil.  Not  only  does  the  hero 
accomplish  all  his  ends  by  brute  force,3  but  he  fails  on 
every  occasion  where  brain  work  is  necessary.  Twice 
in  the  early  part  of  the  story  does  the  oldest  brother 
deceive  him,4  and  it  is  Adam  who,  a  little  later,  sug- 
gests the  plan  for  testing  friend  and  foe,5  Gamelyn 
himself  is  without  guile.  He  is  a  strong,  crude  man, 
who  means  to  do  right  and  has  a  na'ive  sense  of  jus- 
tice.   "We  will  slee  the  giltif  and  let  the  other  go,"  he 

1 —  Dr.  Ciawson  compares  the  Eobin  Hood  Kescuing  three 
Squires,  (140)  B,  st.  29. 

2 —  This  trait  is  very  common  to  outlaw  stories,  as  Dr.  Ciawson 
remarks.    In  Hereward,  Fulk,  and  Eobin  Hood. 

3,  4 — Compare  vv.  117  f .,  where  Gamelyn  drives  all  the  brother 's 
men  to  hiding  with  a  pestle,  and  then  allows  himself  to  be  duped 
by  his  brother,  w.  159  ff.  Also,  the  wrestling-match  would  show 
physical  prowess  rather  than  intellectual;  vv.  169  ff.  After  killing 
the  porter  he  is  obeyed  through  fear,  but  easily  beguiled  after  the 
company  has  left;  cf.  part  III,  341  ff.  His  part  of  the  revenge 
od  the  clergy  in  part  IV  is  the  use  of  force.  Gamelyn  has  no 
more  sense  than  to  go  to  the  court  of  his  brother  without  a  follow- 
ing, and  of  course  he  is  taken;  vv.  715  f.  He  rescues  his  brother 
Ote  by  force;  821  ff.  In  fact,  the  whole  story  might  be  described 
as  the  combat  of  force  versus  guile. 

5 — W.  431  ff.  It  is  Adam,  also,  according  to  Skeat's  punctua- 
tion— and  it  seems  right — who  suggests  that  they  go  to  the  green- 
wood when  they  find  the  sheriff's  men  will  be  too  much  for  them; 
vv.  601  f. 


100 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


tells  Adam  near  the  end  of  the  story,1  but  he  then  pro- 
ceeds to  hang  Sheriff,  Justice,  and  all  of  the  jury.  It 
is  evident  that  this  tale  did  not  have  its  origin  among 
the  courtly  or  the  educated  classes ;  it  is  plainly  of  the 
people.  The  hero  is  not  even  as  courtly  a  figure  as  the 
early  Robin  Hood,  though  the  latter  too  is  of  popular 
origin. 

The  points  of  contact  with  the  Gest  are  interesting. 
Like  it,  the  story  is  a  rather  loose  agglutination,2  joined 
together  with  some  attempt  at  conscious  art.  The  cen- 
tral interest  is  not  the  same,  for  in  Gamelyn  the  outlaw 
life  holds  a  subordinate  place.  Yet  the  point  of  view 
and  the  general  attitude  toward  the  ruling  powers  are 
strikingly  similar.   As  in  the  case  of  Robin  Hood, 

"Whyl  Gamelyn  was  outlawed  hadde  he  no  cors; 
There  was  no  man  that  for  him  ferde  the  wors, 
But  abbotes  and  priours,  monk  and  chanoun; 
On  hem  left  he  no-thing  whan  he  mighte  hem  nom."3 

The  clerical  orders,  indeed  were  roughly  handled;  and 
the  author  evidently  felt  joy  in  the  pommeling.4  As 
Lindner  remarks,5  the   churchmen  are   the  invited 


1—  V.  822. 

2 —  The  story  of  the  wrestling-match,  the  feasting  afterwards, 
and  the  woodland  experience  have  no  necessary  plot  connection, 
though  that  is  not  much  felt  in  reading  the  story.  In  part  IV, 
also,  there  is  some  confusion  in  the  narrative.  Gamelyn  seems  to 
be  bound  twice;  cf.  11.  350  f.,  and  377  f. 

3 —  There  seems  to  be  no  opposition  to  wealthy  or  titled  men 
in  the  story.  It  would  fit  the  home  of  the  country  squire  or  knight 
as  well  as  the  group  of  plain  yeomen.  This  quotation  is  from  1. 
779  to  1.  782. 

4—  Cf.  11.  501  ff.  and  781  f. 

5 —  Englische  Studien,  II,  s.  113.  His  exact  words  are: 
"Warum  werden  als  gaste  des  altesten  bruders  gerade  geistliche 
gewahlt  und  nicht  andere  leute  ?  Off enbar  nur  un  sich  die  gelegen- 
heit  zu  verschafften  die  geistlichen  zu  verspotten  und  lacherlich  zu 
machen,  und  der  dichter  kann  seine  inner  freude  daruber  dass 
dieselben  ihre  wohlgezahlte  tracht  priigel  erhalten,  kaum  ver- 
bergen. ' ' 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


101 


guests  of  the  oldest  brother  at  his  banquet  in  the 
fourth  part,  with  the  express  desire  of  making  them 
the  object  of  Gamelyn 's  wrath.  The  author  might 
have  chosen  other  social  classes  just  as  well.  The 
attitude  toward  sheriffs  and  king  also  is  the  same  as 
in  Robin  Hood  ballads.1  Toward  the  former  there  is 
perpetual  feud,  toward  the  latter  a  desire  for  recon- 
ciliation. It  is  not  the  king  himself  who  was  hated, 
but  his  various  unscrupulous  representatives.  It  is  not 
a  disrespect  for  law  that  is  manifested,  but  rather,  the 
feeling  that  in  the  absence  of  the  king  justice  can  be 
obtained  by  force  alone.  The  king  himself  in  the  Tale 
of  Gamelyn  as  in  Robin  Hood  material  proves  gracious. 

The  next  point  of  interest  to  consider  in  this  story 
is  that  of  metrical  form.  Here  again  we  find  mani- 
festly popular  elements.  The  rimes,  though  generally 
pure,  are  for  the  most  part  commonplace.  Such  pairs 
as  halie:  alle,  the:  me,  other:  brother,  etc.,  are  fre- 
quently repeated.2  The  author  also  sometimes  runs  a 
long  series  with  the  same  vowel  in  the  rime,  as  vv.  261- 
270  :  sore,  more — stoon,  noon — more,  sore — place, 
grace — schoon,  idoon,  etc.3  Then,  too,  Lindner  points 
out  at  least  three  cases  of  bad  rime  or  assonance.4 


1 —  Dr.  Clawson,  p.  188,  compares  the  hanging  of  the  justice, 
sheriff  and  jury,  with  the  procedure  in  Robin  Hood  rescuing 
Three  Squires,  (140)  B,  st.  29.  He  remarks  also  that  the  recon- 
ciliation with  the  king  brought  into  Gamelyn  at  the  very  end  is 
also  common  to  the  stories  of  Hereward,  Fulk,  and  Eobin  Hood. 

2 —  Lindner,  Englische  Studien,  II,  ss.  101  ffi.,  has  classified  all 
the  rimes.  In  fact,  most  of  the  material  right  here  is  suggested 
by  Lindner,  with  great  wealth  of  examples.  I  have  not  thought 
it  necessary  to  repeat  more  than  one  or  two  for  each  point,  and 
these  merely  for  illustration. 

3—  Lindner,  s.  107-8. 

4 —  Lindner,  s.  107:  wit,  bet,  111;  gate,  skate,  575;  nom,  chanoun, 
781.  Even  the  last  rime  is  not  bad,  as  he  notes  on  the  basis  of 
Ten  Brink's  Studien  zu  Chaucer,  p.  178,  an.  20. 


102 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


There  are  also  a  number  of  stock  phrases.1  such  as 
"ther  he  lay,"  "evil  mot  ye  the,"  "whil  he  was  on 
lyre,"  etc.,  that  are  often  repeated.  Often,  too,  a  line 
echoes  in  its  phrasing  the  line  before,  thus: 

' '  And  Gamelyn  himself e  to  clothen  and  to  f  ede 
He  clothed  him  and  fed  him."  vv.  10,  ll.2 

Or  two  halves  of  a  line  say  the  same  thing,  thus : 

"Who  is  thy  fader — who  is  thy  sire?"  v.  221. 

"Tho  were  his  bondmen  sory  and  nothing  glad." 

v.  699.3 

There  are  even  a  number  of  cases  of  something  that  ap- 
proaches incremental  repetition.  Take  the  following : 

"For  to  delen  hem  alle  to  oon,  that  was  her  thought, 
And  for  Gamelyan  was  yongest  he  schulde  have  naught. 
Al  the  lond  that  there  was  they  dalten  it  in  two, 
And  leeten  Gamelyan  the  yonge  withoute  londe  go." 

v.  43  f . 

"Gamelyn  came  wel  redy  to  the  nexte  schire, 
And  ther  was  his  brother  bothe  lord  and  sire. 
Gamelyn  com  boldelich  in-to  the  moot-halle, 
And  putte  a-doun  his  hood  among  the  lordes  alle ; ' 9 

v.  715  f. 

"Gamelyn  stood  on  a  day  and,  as  he  biheld 
The  woodes  and  the  schawes  in  the  wilde  feeld, 
He  thoughte  on  his  brother  how  he  him  beheet 
That  he  wolde  be  redy  whan  the  Iustice  seet ; 
He  thoughte  wel  that  he  wolde  withoute  delay, 
Come  afore  the  Iustice  to  kepen  his  day."   v.  787  f. 
"Adam  said  to  Gamelyn  and  to  his  felawes  alle, 
Sir  Ote  stant  y-fetered  in  the  moot-halle. 
Yonge  men,  'seide  Gamelyn,  this  ye  heeren  alle ; 
Sir  Ote  stant  y-fetered  in  the  moot-halle."    v.  811  f. 
"The  Iustice  and  the  scherreve  bothe  honged  hye, 
To  weyven  with  the  ropes  and  with  the  winde  drye; 


1— Lindner,  109. 

2 —  Lindner,  s.  108. 

3 —  Lindner,  s.  112. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


103 


And  the  twelve  sisours  (sorwe  have  that  rekke!) 

Alle  they  were  hanged  faste  by  the  nekke. "  v.  879  f. 

I  have  presented  more  cases  of  this  last  phenomenon,1 
because  it  is  one  that  Lindner  does  not  treat  in  his  valu- 
able study  of  the  poem,  and  because  incremental  repeti- 
tion is  so  strongly  emphasized  by  Professor  Gummere 
as  a  determining  characteristic  of  the  ballad  type. 
These  are  not  as  perfect  cases  as  we  find  in  ballads 
taken  down  in  late  times,  nor  as  good  as  the  examples 
in  Robyn  and  Gandeleyn,2  but  they  are  better  approxi- 
mations than  anything  in  the  Gest3  or  in  most  other 
early  ballads.  They  are  close  enough  to  suggest  that 
the  tale  of  Gamelyn  has  marked  ballade affeiities.^' 

The  actual  meter  of  the  piece,  too,  suggests  the  same 
thing.  The  nursery-rime  movement  to  the  poem  has 
been  noted  more  than  once,4  and  Professor  Saintsbury 
has  even  scanned  some  of  the  lines  in  a  way  to  show 
their  distinguishing  characteristics.  Skeat,  I  think,  has 
not  done  as  well.5  He  would  make  the  rhythm  irregu- 


1 —  There  are  still  other  cases  about  as  good;  cf.  821  f.,  897  f.r 
etc. 

2—  Robyn  and  Gandeleyn,  No.  115,  stanzas  9,  10,  11,  12.  16,  17. 

3 —  Dr.  Hart  states  positively  (Ballad  and  Epic,  p.  100)  that 
' '  The  incremental  repetition,  the  effective  stanzaic  groups,  the  re- 
frain, important  characteristics  of  the  Simple  Ballads,  do  not 
appear  in  the  Cycle  or  the  Gest."  Of  course  some  of  the  late- 
Robin  Hood  ballads  have  refrain;  cf.  Nos.  122,  B,  125,  126,  etc. 

4 —  W.  W.  Skeat,  Tale  of  Gamelyn,  Clarendon  Press  series,  1884r 
pp.  XXIII  ff.  Clawson  repeats  the  idea  without  elaborating. 
Saintsbury,  independently,  treats  the  meter  in  his  History  of  Eng- 
lish Prosody,  vol.  1,  1906,  pp.  254  f. 

5 —  Probably  this  statement  is  not  entirely  fair  to  Skeat,  because 
he  was  testing  the  poem  by  standards  such  as  one  would  apply  to 
Chaucer,  because  the  poem  was  found  in  Chaucer  MS.  He  classi- 
fies lines  according  to  seven  types,  but  I  do  not  think  that  his 
observations  amount  to  much.  He  scans  lines  as  three-beat  that 
ought  to  be  four  of  the  ' 1  Judas ' '  lilt.  Saintsbury  emphasizes  the 
regularity  of  the  meter,  when  judged  by  its  own  standards  and 
principles. 


104 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


lar.  Judged  by  the  standards  of  its  specific  type,  it  is 
not  irregular  at  all.  It  is  merely  another  poem  in  what 
I  have  called  the  "Judas"  meter,  because  that  is  the 
first  ballad  to  use  it.  It  belongs  precisely  to  the  type 
of 

"Sing  a  song  of  six-pence,  pocket  full  of  rye. 
Four  and  twenty  black-birds  baked  in  a  pie, ' ' 

where  the  lines  are  not  the  regular  ballad  four-beat 
plus  three.  The  leaving  out  or  crowding  in  of  weak 
syllables  does  not  make  the  swing  of  the  line  irregular, 
unless  one  tries  to  scan  according  to  literary  rules — en- 
cumbrances which  do  not  apply  to  this  poem.  The 
meter  has  a  good  vigorous  swing  to  it  that  carries  one 
over  all  sorts  of  otherwise  rough  places.  It  does  not 
break  down  or  become  merely  formless.  The  Tale  is 
written  as  continuous  verse  in  long  lines,  riming  in 
couplets.  But  without  warping  the  form  in  the  least,  it 
might  as  well  be  written  in  short  lines  like  the  ballads; 
and  since  the  pauses  usually  coincide  with  the  couplets, 
the  poem  might  equally  well  be  divided  into  stanzas. 

Yet  in  spite  of  all  these  likenesses  to  ballad  struc- 
ture, the  Tale  of  Gamelyn  is  not  a  ballad, — though  what 
it  is,  is  hard  to  say.  It  does  not  seem  to  belong  with 
any  more  propriety  to  the  field  of  romances.  It  is  a 
tale,  but  then,  even  Robin  Hood  was  called  a  tale. 
There  is  much  in  the  piece  to  suggest  that  the  author 
was  a  man  of  the  people,  who  partly  improvised  with 
his  audience  before  him.  He  was  not  as  courtly  or  re- 
fined a  man  as  the  author  of  the  Gest.  And  yet,  I  say, 
in  spite  of  all  these  approaches,  the  Tale  of  Gamelyn  is 
not  a  ballad.  It  has  enough  Crudities,  but  they  are  not 
exactly  ballad  crudities.  It  has  too  much  plot,  too 
much  detail,  too  leisurely  a  movement,  too  few  of  the 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


105 


narrative  leapings  to  be  classed  with  the  type.1  Robin 
Hood  in  the  Gest  strained  the  type  a  good  deal:  this 
poem  has  got  over  the  boundary.  Unlike  the  Gest,  it 
hardly  seems  to  be  a  cluster  of  made-over  ballads,  and 
it  seems  equally  hard  to  believe  it  a  ballad  in  the  mak- 
ing. The  Tale  of  Gamelyn  is  extremely  interesting  for 
its  ballad  affinities,  but  nevertheless  it  must  be  treated 
as  standing  somewhat  apart. 

1 — Unlike  the  Gest,  it  begins  by  telling  of  the  hero's  parentage, 
etc. — the  method  of  romances,  according  to  Dr.  Hart,  Ballad  and 
Epic,  p.  100. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Fifteenth  Century 

WITH  the  15th  century  we  come  upon  an  age 
fairly  rich  in  contributions  to  balladry.  In 
fact,  it  is  the  belief  of  several  critics1  that  if 
this  period  did  not  see  the  actual  beginning  of  the 
popular  ballad.,  it  at  least  first  saw  its  extensive  cur- 
rency. The  belief,  however,  is  one  incapable  of  proof. 
In  the  15th  and  early  16th  century  there  are  at  least  a 
dozen  secular  song  collections  for  one  that  had  ap- 
peared before.  "What  then  if  we  do  find  in  this  greater 
abundance  of  material  a  half-dozen  or  more  of  ballads, 
and  a  number  of  other  pieces  that  are  somewhat  ballad- 
like !  The  great  trouble  in  theorizing  for  any  of  the 
earlier  centuries  is  the  absolute  dearth  of  all  kinds  of 
song  material.  In  the  15th  and  16th  centuries  we  are 
not  quite  so  handicapped. 

But  as  yet  not  much  has  been  done  with  this  song 
material,  though  most  of  it  is  now  easily  accessible  to 


1 — The  statement  is  to  be  found  in  numerous  literary  histories. 
"Garnett  and  Gosse, "  1,  296:  "In  general  the  15th  century  may 
be  regarded  as  the  period  when  the  ballad  first  took  literary 
form.7'  Saintsbury,  Short  History  of  English  History,  p.  201: 
' '  To  the  present  writer  the  balance  of  probability  seems  to  in- 
cline to  the  supposition  that  the  1 5th  century  was  the  special  time 
of  ballad  production  in  England."  Millar,  Literary  History  of 
Scotland,  p.  190:  "While  certain  English  ballads  may  possibly  go 
back  as  far  as  the  middle  of  the  14th  century,  it  is  a  plain  and 
solid  fact  that  'there  remain  but  the  merest  fragments  of  anony- 
mous popular  Scots  poetry  which  can  be  referred  to  the  15th 
century,'  and  even  the  greater  bulk  of  what  we  possess  does  not 
exist  for  us  at  any  time  anterior  to  the  16th  century."  (He  refers 
to  Gregory  Smith,  211.)  F.  J.  Snell,  Age  of  Transition,  1400- 
1580:  "It  may  be  confidently  affirmed  that  this  was  the  golden 
age  of  the  English  ballad,"  p.  197. 


106 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


107 


the  scholar,  and  much  of  it  to  the  ordinary  reader.  A 
goodly  share,  too,  is  intrinsically  worthy  of  study. 
Fairly  complete  transcripts  of  most  of  the  important 
early  song  collections  have  now  been  published  in  some 
form,  either  in  volumes  for  learned  societies  such  as 
the  Percy,1  the  Warton,2  the  Early  English  Text,3  or 
the  Boxburghe,4  or  in  philological  periodicals  such  as 
Anglia5  or  Herrig's  Archiv.6  There  are  also  two  or 
three  notable  anthologies,  including  the  still  needful 
Wright  and  Halliw ell's  Reliquiae  Antiquae7  and  the 
equally  indispensable  recent  collection  of  Early  Eng- 
lish Lyrics,8  by  Chambers  and  Sidgwick.  Prom  these 
various  sources  can  be  collected  several  hundred  dif- 
ferent songs,  including  specimens  of  almost  every  type. 
There  are  also  to  be  found  now  a  few  scholarly  critical 
introductions  to  the  field,  such  as  Mr.  E.  K.  Chambers's 


1 —  Particularly  noteworthy  are  the  volumes  edited  by  Wright: 
Songs  and  Carols,  now  first  printed,  from  a  MS.  of  the  15th  cen- 
tury, 1847 ;  and  Specimens  of  Old  Christmas  Carols,  1841. 

2 —  Again  a  volume  entitled  Songs  and  Carols,  and  edited  by 
Wright,  Warton  Club,  1856. 

3 —  Particularly  Eichard  Hill  ?s  Commonplace  Book,  Balliol  MS. 
354,  edited  by  Dyboski,  1907. 

4 —  Particularly  Songs  and  Ballads,  chiefly  of  the  reign  of 
Philip  and  Mary,  edited  by  Wright,  from  an  Ashmolean  MS., 
1860.    Eichard  Sheale's  MS. 

5 —  Especially  the  series  published  by  E.  Fliigel,  Anglia  XII, 
225,  from  Addl.  31922,  ib.  256,  from  Eoyal  Append.  58;  ib.  585, 
from  W.  de  Worde's  Christmasse  Carolles,  Bassus,  XXVI,  94, 
from  Balliol,  354.  Also  F.  M.  Padelford  in  XXXI,  309  f.,  from 
Eawlinson,  C.  813. 

6 —  Now  known  as  Archiv  fiir  das  Studium  der  neueren  Sprachen 
u.  Litteraturen.  Braunschweig,  previously  Elberfeld.  B.  Fehr 
has  published  a  series  CVI,  48  f.  and  262,  from  the  Fairfax  MS. 
(Add.  5465)  and  Add.  5665;  CVII,  48  f.  from  a  number  of  MSS., 
CIX,  33,  Sloane  2593. 

7 —  Eeliquiae  Antiquae.  Scraps  from  Ancient  Manuscripts,  illus- 
trating chiefly  Early  English  Literature  and  the  English  Language. 
Two  volumes,  1841,  1843. 

8—  London,  1907. 


108 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


"Some  Aspects  of  Mediaeval  Lyric/'1  and  especially 
Professor  F.  M.  Padelford's  chapter,  "Transition  Eng- 
lish Song  Collections,"  contributed  to  volume  two  of 
the  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature.2  The 
latter  is  as  simple  and  clear  a  presentation  of  the  field 
as  anyone  could  desire.  The  chapter  title,  however,  is 
something  of  a  misnomer,  for  the  discussion  is  not  con- 
cerned with  song  collections  but  rather  with  the  classi- 
fication and  illustration  of  the  types  of  song  material. 

In  none  of  these  critical  treatments,  however,  has  the 
ballad  received  sufficient  attention.  All  have  placed 
the  emphasis  elsewhere.  We,  of  course,  shall  take  up 
this  song  material  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  Child 
Ballad.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  several  works  deal- 
ing with  this  period  have  chapters  on  the  "popular" 
ballad,  but  these  chapters  are  either  too  brief  and  too 
superficial,  or  too  much  concerned  with  minstrel  and 
literary  ballads  to  be  of  use  in  our  own  quest.3  We 


1 —  Published  in  the  Early  English  Lyrics,  just  referred  to,  pp. 
257  f.  With  reference  to  Mr.  Chambers,  it  is  of  course  necessary 
to  mention  his  larger  work  on  the  Mediaeval  Stage,  two  volumes, 
Oxford,  1903.  Though  this  centers  its  interest  in  the  drama,  there 
is  a  world  of  information  relating  to  songs,  ballads,  and  European 
folk-lore.  The  popular  drama  is  not  very  far  removed  in  some 
aspects  from  balladry.  See  Chambers's  index  for  specific  refer- 
ences. 

2—  Chapter  XVI,  pp.  422  f. 

3 —  None  are  strictly  historical  and  none  take  Professor  Child's 
Collection  as  the  norm.  Courthope,  in  chapter  XI  of  his  History 
of  English  Poetry,  vol.  I  (The  Decay  of  English  Minstrelsy),  while 
emphasizing  minstrelsy,  does  not  analyze  ballads  with  enough 
keenness.  J.  H.  Millar  is  not  only  injudicial  in  his  treatment 
(p.  181  of  his  Literary  History  of  Scotland),  but  sometimes  even 
positively  unfair.  Snell  in  his  Age  of  Transition  is  superficial, 
and  shows  no  extensive  knowledge.  G.  Gregory  Smith,  The  Transi- 
tion Period,  p.  180  f.,  says  the  ballad  is  not  a  popular  genre.  It 
is  a  literary  product.  But  he  sees  no  difference  between  the  Child 
type  and  other  pieces.  The  Nut -Brown  Maid  and  John  the  Eeeve 
are  both  to  him  ballads.  His  examples  of  15th  century  balladry 
he  takes  from  the  Percy  Folio,  largely. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


109 


shall  therefore  do  the  work  quite  independently  of  all 
these  forerunners. 

The  15th  century  and  the  first  half  of  the  16th  pre- 
sent us  not  only  with  examples  of  several  varieties  of 
the  Child  ballad  but  also  with  a  great  abundance  of 
pieces  that  show  various  degrees  of  approximation  to 
the  ballad  type.  This  second  class  of  material  is  quite 
as  important  to  the  ballad  historian  as  the  first.  Tho 
period  is  therefore  one  of  extraordinary  interest. 

Let  us  take  up,  first  of  all,  the  actual  ballads  of  the 
15th  century.  Four  have  up  to  the  present  time  been 
recognized.  They  are:  "Robin  Hood  and  the  Monk," 
(119,)  (existing  in  two  fragmentary  copies  of  about 
the  same  age)  -1  "Robyn  and  Gwendeleyn,"  (No.  115,) 
and  "St.  Stephen  and  Herod,"  (No.  22,)  (both  in  one 
MS.,  Sloane  2593)  ;  and  "Riddles  Wisely  Expounded," 
(No.  1,)  only  brought  to  light  in  the  appendix  to  the 
last  volume  of  Professor  Child's  collection.2  All  of 
these  are  to  be  found  in  manuscripts  that  approximate 
in  date  the  middle  of  the  century;3  and  each  illustrates 
a  different  type  of  Child  ballad.  It  is  hardly  neces- 
sary to  say  more  about  "Robin  Hood  and  the  Monk" 
than  to  repeat  that  it  is  one  of  the  best  representatives 
of  its  cycle.  But  it  may  be  well  to  add  here  that  the 
better  of  the  two  copies  is  found  in  a  manuscript  that 
also  contains  among  other  poems  one  on  "King  Edward 

1—  "a.  MS.  Ff.  5,  48,  fol.  128  b.,  Cambridge  University  Library; 
b.  One  leaf  of  a  MS.  of  the  same  age,  containing  stanzas 
693-72,  772-802,  Bagford  Ballads,  vol.  1,  art.  6,  British  Museum. " 

2 —  " Kawlinson,  MS.  D.  328,  fol.  174  b.,  Bodleian  Library." 

3 —  In  the  list  of  sources  of  the  texts,  Eawlinson  MS.  D.  328, 
from  which  No.  1  is  taken,  is  said  to  be  before  1445.  But  in  his 
introduction  to  the  ballad  (v.  283)  Prof.  Child  states  about  it  that 
"It  is  from  a  book  acquired  by  Walter  Pollard  of  Plymouth,  in 
the  23d  year  of  Henry  VI,  1444-5,  and  the  handwriting  is  thought 
to  authorize  the  conclusion  that  the  verses  were  copied  into  the 
book  not  long  after." 


110 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


0 


III  and  the  Shepherd,"1  which,  though  not  ballad-like 
in  form,  Professor  Child  connects  in  content  with  the 
"King  and  the  Tanner,"  group  (273,)  nor  is  it  neces- 
sary to  say  very  much  about  "Robin  and  Gandeleyn" 
as  a  ballad.  In  the  last  chapter  it  was  stated  (after 
Professor  Child)  that  it  is  not  a  member  of  the  Robin 
Hood  cycle.  It  is  a  forester  poem  like  "Johnny  Cock," 
(No.  114,)  and  of  simple  balladry  surely  as  good  an 
example.  It  has  all  the  marks  of  the  ballad  straight 
out  of  tradition:  naive  simplicity,  the  rapid  leaping 
movement,  considerable  dialogue,  somewhat  irregular 
stanzaic  structure,  refrain,  imperfect  rime,  and  incre- 
mental repetition.  It  is  clearly  not  of  the  literary  style 
of  poetry;  but  if  any  other  fact  were  needed  to  show 
this,  the  very  form  in  which  it  is  written  in  the  man- 
uscript would  be  sufficient.  The  Sloane  MS.  2593  is 
without  doubt  the  most  important  ballad  manuscript 
of  its  century.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  say  more 
about  it  later.  But  in  connection  with  "Robin  and 
Gandeleyn"  it  may  here  be  stated  that  the  ballad  is 
written  in  prose, — quite  at  variance  with  all  the  other 
pieces  in  the  manuscript,  most  of  which  even  have  the 
stanzas  marked  off  by  a  IT  and  the  rimes  bracketed 
The  ends  of  the  long  lines  of  Robyn  are,  to  be  sure, 
sometimes  marked  by  a  point  and  sometimes  by  a  ||, 
but  that  does  not  bring  the  poem  into  harmony  with 
the  rest  of  the  manuscript.  One  line,  "Euyche  at  opis 
herte  seyde  wrennok  ageyn,"  is  repeated  a  couple  of 
lines  later  instead  of  "And  I  xul  zeve  pe  on  beforn 
seyde  wrennok  ageyn."  The  mistake  is  corrected.  It 
looks  like  a  visual  error,  but  perhaps  not.    If  it  were 


1 — For  an  account  of  the  MS.  see  chapt.  4,  p.  115,  note  2  of 
this  thesis. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


111 


not  for  this  mistake  it  would  seem  probable  that  the 
ballad  had  been  taken  down  into  the  song-book  directly 
from  tradition.1  But  even  if  copied  its  form  would 
suggest  that  it  had  an  ultimate  original,  written  simi- 
larly, straight  out  of  tradition,  and  not  far  removed. 

St.  Stephen  (No.  22),  which  is  to  be  found  in  this 
same  manuscript,  eight  folios  later,  is  a  good  illustra- 
tion of  the  religious  ballad.2  It  does  not  call  for  much 
comment.  It  is  written  as  verse  in  long  lines  and  has 
each  stanza  preceded  by  a  IT.  It  reminds  one  strongly 
of  Judas  (No.  23)  in  its  tone  and  its  repetitions,  and  is 
perhaps  even  more  ballad-like. 

The  fourth  ballad,  "Riddles  Wisely  Expounded,"  or 
as  it  is  known  in  the  manuscript,  "Inter  diabolus  et 
virgo,"  is  not  so  easily  disposed  of.  As  has  just  been 
stated,  the  15th  century  version — the  only  one  at  all 
early3 — was  brought  to  light  only  in  time  to  be  printed 
in  the  appendix  of  the  last  part  of  the  last  volume  of 
the  Child  Collection.4  It  had  been  published  shortly 
before  by  Dr.  Furnivall  in  Englische  Studien,  XXIII, 
1897.  "Inter  diabolus  et  virgo"  is  undoubtedly  the 
direct  ancestor  of  the  later  versions  of  "Riddles  Wisely 
Expounded."    The  similarity — even  to  absolute  iden- 


1 —  The  mistake  might  just  as  well  have  occurred  in  taking  the 
ballad  down  from  dictation  or  memory. 

2 —  There  are  besides  this  ballad  also  carols  on  the  subject;  cf. 
Balliol  MS.,  354,  No.  41,  of  Dyboski's  edition. 

3 —  Counting  C  and  D  together  there  are  five  versions  of  the 
ballad — A*,  A,  B,  C,  (D),  and  E.  A  is  found  in  broadsides  of 
the  17th  century;  B,  "The  Three  Sisters,"  is  from  Gilbert's 
Christmas  Carols,  2nd  ed.  C  and  D  from  the  Motherwell  MS.; 
E  is  from  Miss  Mason's  Nursery  Rhymes  and  Country  Songs. 
This  was  first  printed  by  Child  in  the  appendix  to  part  "IX. 

4—  Vol.  V,  pp.  283  f . 


112 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


tity  in  some  cases  of  the  riddles,1 — and  the  presence  of 
the  devil  as  the  male  character  in  C,  D2  and  E,  leave 
no  ground  to  think  otherwise.  And  ' '  Inter  diabolus  et 
virgo"  is  itself  a  ballad.  I  confess  I  have  had  mo- 
ments of  doubt,  when  I  have  thought  of  numerous 
other  15th  century  pieces  almost  as  ballad-like.3  But 
the  directness,  the  lack  of  detail,  the  dialogue,  the 
meter,  the  connection  with  later  undoubtedly  genuine 
ballads, — all  these  things  taken  together  are  amply 
sufficient  to  place  it  within  the  type.  But  after  all, 
when  one  compares  it  with  the  later  specimens  of  the 
group,  one  misses  certain  ballad  traits  very  evident  in 
the  others  and  in  traditional  ballads  generally.  It  has 
no  refrain,  though  that  is  likely  accident  and  the  fault 
of  the  transcriber.  But  it  lacks  absolutely  the  incre- 
mental repetition  of  the  other  versions,  with  the  three 
sisters  group,4  and  the  trace  of  a  corresponding  series 
of  questions.5    And  it  lacks  finally  those  characteristic 


1 —  "What  ys  hyer  ban  ys  be  tre?"  91,  D  l1,  "What  ys  dypper 
}>an  ys  the  see?"    91,  Dl2,  A132,  B82.  ' 

<  <  What  ys  sharpper  ban  ys  be  borne? ' '   A142,  B62,  C121,  D31,  E92. 
"What  ys  loder  ban  ys  be  borne?"    A141,  B61,  C122,  D32,  E91. 
"What  [ys]  bether  than  be  bred?"  C.  102. 

"What  [ys]  longger  ban  ys  be  way?"  A.  131,  B81  [broader] 
D141. 

Compare  also,  "What  ys  rader  ban  ys  be  day?"  with  E10, 
"What  is  brighter  than  the  light?"    There  are  other  similarities. 

2 —  D  seems  fragmentary.  It  was  given  by  the  reciter  as  a 
colloquy  between  the  devil  and  a  maiden. 

3—  Cf.  "I  have  a  ^ong  suster,"  Sloane  MS.  2593;  St.  Nicholas 
and  three  maidens,  ib.;  Nowel,  Mary  moder  cum  and  se;  ib. 
These  are  taken  from  the  same  MS.  purposely.  None  are  ballads, 
yet  all  have  ballad  traits. 

4—  Cf.  The  Cruel  Brother,  No.  11,  Babylon,  No.  14,  are  ex- 
amples of  the  three  sisters  group. 

5 —  In  E,  a  children's  game,  and  adapted  in  tone  and  content 
accordingly,  not  only  are  the  three  daughters'  services  listed  in- 
crementally, but  he  makes  of  them  incremental  demands.  Of  the 
first  he  asks  answers  to  three  questions,  of  the  second,  six,  and  of 
all  together,  nine.  In  A,  the  knight  asks  for  answers  for  three 
questions,  but  propounds  six.  Perhaps  there  was  some  such  incre- 
mental arrangement  for  that  version  too,  originally. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


113 


ballad  phrases  such  as  "And  pin'd  the  door  with  a 
silver  pin."1  Also,  the  story  is  troublesome.  It  is  not 
much  like  that  of  A,  and  shows  the  good  ending  of  the 
latter  to  be  a  perversion.  Until  the  early  version  was 
brought  to  light,  Professor  Child  thought  differently, 
and  surely  it  is  the  good  ending  that  best  joins  the 
story  with  all  similar  tales  mentioned  in  his  introduc- 
tion as  found  in  continental  literatures.  All  this  makes 
of  "Inter  diabolus  et  virgo"  a  perplexing  ballad;  it 
is  a  clear  case  of  an  early  version  not  being  nearly  so 
ballad-like  as  a  whole  group  of  later  ones. 

These  four  specimens  of  balladry  are  all  that  have 
survived  to  us  from  the  15th  century.2  Nor  are  there 
known  any  literary  references  to  ballads3  outside  of 
those  to  the  Robin  Hood  cycle.  On  the  other  hand, 
many  romances  and  verse  tales4  have  survived  from 


1 —  A,  52.  Compare  also  A  9.  B  likewise  mentions  barring  the 
door  with  a  silver  pin,  22. 

2 —  Professor  Child  mentions  "King  Edward  the  third  and  the 
Shepperd, "  "King  Edward  and  the  Hermit,"  and  "Kalph 
Coilyear, "  in  connection  with  "The  King  and  the  Tanner"  (No. 
273),  but  it  is  merely  because  of  similarity  of  story.  None  are 
at  all  ballad-like. 

3—  Cf.  MS.  Laud,  416,  olim.  C.  90,  circa  1460.  3rd  Command- 
ment not  to  break  the  Sabbath.  Quoted  in  Eeliquae  Antiquae,  II. 
27,  1st  stan2a. 

Also  use  not  to  pley  at  the  dice  ne  at  the  tablis, 
Ne  none  maner  gamys  uppon  the  holidais; 
Use  no  tavernys  where  be  jestes  and  fablis, 
Synging  of  lewde  balettes,  rondelettes,  or  virolois; 
Nor  erly  in  mornyng  to  fecche  home  fresch  mois 
For  yt  makyth  maydins  to  stomble  and  falle  in  the  breirs, 
And  afterward  they  telle  her  councele  to  the  freirs. 
Probably  not  the  Child  ballad  referred  to. 

4—  For  instance,  cf.  MS.  Cotton,  Caligula  A,  1],  of  the  15th 
century.  It  contains  Eglamor,  Lybeans  disconns,  Emare,  Ypotis, 
Trentale  sci  Gregorii,  The  sege  of  Ierusalem,  Chavalere  assignee 
Isumbras,  and  other  pieces  of  a  similar  nature.  Also  MS.  More, 
690,  or  MS.  Cantab.  Ff.  ii.  38,  and  Thornton  MS.  or  Lincoln  MS. 
A,  i.  17,  1440.  Both  described  by  Halliwell  in  his  edition- of  the 
Thornton  Eomances  for  the  Camden  Society,  1844. 


114: 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  period,  and  very  many  carols  and  songs.  With  such 
facts  confronting  us  it  seems  rather  absurd  to  name 
the  15th  century  as  the  great  epoch  in  balladry.  The 
truth  is,  the  facts  are  too  meagre  and  uncertain  to  war- 
rant any  definite  conclusion.  But  of  poems  that  have 
ballad  traits  and  which  may  thus  be  called  approaches 
to  the  type,  the  15th  and  the  early  16th  century  offer 
numerous  examples.  Still  the  greater  part  are  to  be 
found  in  a  very  few  manuscripts,  and  the  number  of 
pieces  all  told  is  not  sufficient  to  mean  much  chrono- 
logically. The  15th  is  not  the  first  century  to  use 
parallelism  of  line  structure  and  incremental  repeti- 
tion. We  have  noted  in  a  previous  chapter1  earlier 
cases  in  works  both  religious  and  secular.  The  carols, 
too,  use  these  devices,  and  there  is  no  ground  for  sup- 
posing that  they  began  in  the  15th  century.  Further- 
more, much  of  the  ballad-like  material  that  has  come 
to  us  from  this  time  is  undoubtedly  traditional,  and 
suggests  an  origin  by  no  means  recent.  And  with  this 
statement  we  may  well  drop  the  matter. 

In  the  15th  century  there  are  only  one  or  two  col- 
lections that  contain  much  ballad-like  material.  Of 
these  the  Sloane  MS.  2593  is  by  far  the  most  impor- 
tant. Presumably  MS.  F.  f.  5,  v.  48,  of  the  University 
of  Cambridge  Library,  in  which  "Robin  Hood  and  the 
Monk"  is  to  be  found,  is  a  close  second — at  least  I 
know  several  interesting  pieces  from  it2 — but  at  the 
present  time  of  writing  I  have  no  way  of  determining 
the  whole  of  its  contents.  Some  vandal  has  cut  out 
from  the  British  Museum  copy  of  the  Cambridge 
Library  catalogue  the  pages  containing  the  greater 

1 —  Chap.  2,  pg.  39;  pg.  61,  text  and  note  2;  chap.  2,  pg.  71,  note 
1 ;  (of  this  thesis). 

2 —  Cf.  421  f.  for  an  example. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


115 


part  of  this  particular  itemized  description.  I  shall 
therefore  devote  my  attention  chiefly  to  the  Sloane  MS. 
at  present,  and  add  later  in  an  appendix,  descriptions 
of  such  other  manuscripts  as  I  find  of  moment.1 

We  have  said  enough  about  the  ballads  in  the  Sloane 
MS.  We  shall  confine  ourselves  now  to  other  things 
of  interest  about  it.  Its  material  has  been  twice 
printed;2  once  complete  by  Wright  for  the  Warton 
Club,  and  again  practically  so  by  Fehr  in  the  Archiv.3 
The  latter  has  given  a  slight  grammatical  introduction 
and  a  brief  analysis  of  the  contents.  A  good  compact 
description  of  the  manuscript  itself  may  be  found  in 
Early  English  Lyrics,  p.  303.    It  is  a  small  paper  book, 


1 —  Since  writing  the  text  for  this,  I  have  seen  the  MS.  itself. 
The  description  of  the  MS.  might  as  well  be  given  here  briefly. 
All  of  the  most  interesting  pieces  had  already  been  made  public. 
The  book  may  be  described  as  a  small  quarto  5%  x  8%,  on  paper, 
132  leaves.  The  handwriting  is  not  uniform  throughout,  though 
it  seems  to  be  through  the  first  half  of  the  book,  at  least  as  far 
as  65  a.  This  part  is  in  a  fairly  neat  hand,  with  the  beginning 
capitals  stroked  with  red,  with  some  printed  colophons,  titles,  etc., 
and  with  rimes  bracketed  by  red  lines.  Generally  there  is  but 
one  column  to  the  page,  though  King  Edward  and  the  Shepperd 
has  two.  The  last  part  of  the  MS.  is  in  a  more  careless  hand  than 
anything  earlier,  and  the  MS.  itself  has  suffered  much  from  damp, 
being  brown  with  discoloration  in  large  patches.  ' 1  Eobin  Hood  and 
the  Monk"  is  the  last  piece.  It  is  in  the  same  hand  as  the  poem 
preceding  —  a  story  of  "the  Lady  and  Thomas" — not  ballad-like. 
The  "ballad"  "I  have  sworne  hit  whil  I  live"  (cf.  p.  421)  is  but 
a  few  folios  earlier,  but  I  am  not  sure  of  the  handwriting.  Among 
other  interesting  poems  in  the  MS.  is  ' '  The  Turnament  of  Toten- 
ham. ' '  There  are  two  or  three  poems  of  the  Virgin,  several 
prognostications,  A  song  of  the  Nightingale,  A  course  story  of  a 
Bason,  etc.  Nothing  else  ballad-like  than  that  which  I  mention 
in  this  chapter. 

2 —  Some  of  the  individual  songs  have  been  many  times  reprinted. 

3 —  Archiv  fur  das  Studium  der  Neneren  Sprachen  u.  Littera- 
turen,  CIX,  p.  33  f.  Fehr  does  not  print  those  songs  accessible 
from  other  collections,  but  with  the  aid  of  Early  English  Lyrics 
the  whole  manuscript  may  be  pieced  out. 


116 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


6  x  4%,  compactly  but  neatly  written.1  It  contains  sev- 
enty-four pieces  on  thirty-four  folios.2  Wright  con- 
sidered it  to  be  the  song-book  of  a  minstrel,3  and  he 
dated  the  handwriting  as  of  the  time  of  Henry  VI,4  but 
probably  much  of  the  material  was  then  traditional.5 
The  contents  may  be  described  as  ' '  Songs  and  Carols ; ' ' 
mainly  religious  and  moral,  but  some  trivial  and  satiri- 
cal. There  are  three  Latin  pieces.  The  rest  are  Eng- 
lish, but  over  a  dozen  have  Latin  refrains.  Christmas 
carols  of  the  usual  types  make  up  the  bulk  of  the  col- 
lection. But  even  these  often  have  characteristics  com- 
mon to  the  ballad.  The  exquisite  lyric,  "I  syng  of  a 
may  den,"  is  too  well  known6  to  need  quotation,  and 
it  will  be  remembered  that  that  has  incremental  repeti- 
tion.   So  has  a  carol  beginning: 

A  new  3er,  a  new  $er,  a  chyld  was  i-born 
Us  for  to  savyn  that  al  was  for-lorn, 
So  blyssid  be  the  tyme. 

The  fader  in  hevene  his  owyn  sone  he  sent, 
His  kyngdam  for  to  cleymyn.    So  blyssid,  etc. 

Al  in  a  clene  maydyn  our  Lord  was  i-lyzt, 
Us  for  to  savyn  with  al  his  myzt.  etc. 


1 —  Frequently  there  is  more  than  one  song  on  a  page.  In  that 
case  they  are  separated  by  a  horizontal  line.  The  first  few  pages 
even  have  a  modest  attempt  at  decoration.  Eed  strokes  are  added 
to  some  of  the  letters,  and  all  through  there  are  occasionally  little 
simple  flower  and  other  designs  drawn  in  black  ink. 

2 —  There  are  really  37  folios  in  the  book,  but  the  last  three 
pages  are  mostly  blank. 

3 —  Introduction  to  his  edition  for  the  Warton  Club. 

4 —  The  British  Museum  Catalogue  for  the  Sloane  MS.  puts  it 
at  the  beginning  of  the  15th  century.  Early  English  Lyrics  states, 
p.  303,  that  according  to  Bradley-Stratmann  the  MS.  was  written 
in  Warwickshire  at  the  beginning  of  the  15th  century.  I  do  not 
know  the  grounds  for  their  conclusion. 

5 —  One  song  Wright  shows  was  probably  written  in  1362-9. 

6 —  Found  in  several  anthologies;  cf.  Early  English  Lyrics,  p. 
107. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


117 


Al  of  a  clene  maydyn  our  Lord  was  i-born, 
Us  for  to  savyn  that  al  was  for-lorn.  etc. 

Lullay,  lullay,  lytil  chyld,  myn  owyn  dere  fode, 
How  xalt  thow  sufferin  be  naylid  on  the  rode?  etc. 

Lullay,  lullay,  lytil  chyld,  myn  owyn  dere  smerte, 
How  xalt  thow  sufferin  the  sharp  spere  to  thi  herte? 

Lullay,  lullay,  lytyl  child,  I  synge  al  for  thi  sake, 
Many  on  is  the  sharpe  schour  to  thi  body  is  schape. 

And  so  on  through  three  more  stanzas  of  similar  struc- 
ture, with  then  a  conclusion.  Neither  of  these  exam- 
ples is  a  ballad,  nor  is  either  likely  to  be  mistaken  for 
one,  but  they  do  both  exhibit  a  certain  approach  to 
ballad  method.  The  same  is  true  of  the  carol  with  the 
burden, 

Al  the  meryere  is  that  place, 

The  sunne  of  grace  hym  schynit  in, 

and  of  one  or  two  other  religious  pieces.  Especially,  to 
be  noted  in  the  song  of  St.  Nicholas  and  the  three 
maidens : 

Alle  maydenis,  for  Godes  grace, 
Worchepe  $e  seynt  Nicholas. 

Seynt  Nicholas  was  of  gret  poste, 
For  he  worshepid  maydenis  thre, 
That  were  sent  in  fer  cuntre 

Common  wommen  for  to  be. 
Here  fader  was  man  in  powre  aray, 
Onto  his  dowteres  he  gan  say, 
"Dowteres,  }e  must  away, 

Non  lenger  kepe  $ou  I  may. 
"  Dowteres,  myn  blyssing  I  30U  3eve, 
For  catel  wil  not  with  me  thryve, 
}e  must  with  ^oure  body  leve, 

^our  wordeze  must  dryve." 
The  eldest  dowter  swor,  be  bred  of  qwete, 
"I  have  levere  beggyn  myn  mete, 


118 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


And  getyn  me  good  qwer  I  may  gete, 
Than  ledyn  myn  lyf  in  lecherie. " 
The  medil  dowter  seyde,  so  mote  che  the, 
"I  had  levere  hangyd  and  drawyd  be 
With  wylde  hors  to  or  thre, 

Than  ledin  myn  lyf  in  lecherie." 
The  ^ongere  lechery  gan  to  spyse, 
And  preyid  saynt  Nicholas,  as  che  was  wise, 
"Saynt  Nicholas,  as  he  was  wyse,  (sic) 

Help  us  fro  lecherie." 
Saynt  Nicholas,  at  the  townys  ende, 
Consoylid  tho  maydenis  horn  to  wynde, 
And  throw  Godes  grace  he  xulde  hem  synde 

Husbandes  thre  good  and  kind 

At  the  end  of  this  same  manuscript  there  is  another 
song  of  St.  Nicholas1  that  mentions  this  good  deed 
along  with  a  number  of  others,  but  it  has  not  so  much 
the  ballad  style.  The  poem  we  have  just  quoted  is 
of  course  not  a  ballad.  It  is  in  the  carol  meter  (though 
in  theory  that  ought  not  to  count  against  popularity), 
and  besides  there  is  a  clear  trace  of  literary  workman- 
ship. On  the  other  hand,  it  is  somewhat  naive ;  it  has 
something  of  a  story,  which  it  tells  partly  by  the  incre- 
mental method. 

The  manuscript  has  other  interesting  religious  poems, 
particularly  the  "Adam  lay  i-bowndyn"  and  the 
"Nowel,  el,  el,  etc.  Mary  moder,  cum  and  se."  The 
latter  is  to  be  found  elsewhere,2  though  I  think  the 
Sloane  is  the  more  naive  version.  It  is  strongly  dra- 
matic and  even  ballad-like  in  the  way  it  gets  rid  of  the 
narrative  non-essentials.  Its  closest  analogy,  however, 
is  the  miracle  play,  of  which,  except  for  one  stanza,  it 


1—  Wright,  No.  LXXIII. 

2-  —English  Poetry,  1.  1,  "Wright,  Songs  and  Carols,  Percy  So- 
ciety, p.  38.  The  latter  version  is  printed  in  Early  English  Lyrics, 
p.  146. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


119 


almost  seems  an  example  in  miniature.  It  must  not 
be  forgotten  that  the  miracle  play  sometimes  has  bal- 
lad affinities.1 

But  let  us  turn  now  to  the  secular  poems  of  the  manu- 
script. One  or  two  are  of  extreme  interest,  and  repre- 
sent a  much-used  type,  hard  to  evaluate.  Take  the  fol- 
lowing as  an  example: 

I  have  a  zong  suster  fer  bezondyn  the  se, 
Many  be  the  drowryis  that  ehe  sente  me. 

Che  sente  me  the  cherye  wythoutyn  any  ston ; 
And  so  che  dede  [the]  dowe  withoutyn  ony  bon; 

Sche  sente  me  the  brere  withoutyn  ony  rynde ; 
Sche  had  me  love  my  lemmon  withoute  longgyng. 

How  xuld  ony  cherye  be  withoute  ston? 
And  how  xuld  ony  dowe  ben  withoute  bon? 

How  xuld  ony  brere  ben  withoute  rynde  ? 

How  xuld  y  love  myn  lemman  without  longyng? 

Quan  the  cherye  was  a  flour,  than  hadde  it  non  ston ; 
Quan  the  dowe  was  an  ey,  than  hadde  it  non  bon ; 
Quan  the  brere  was  onbred,  than  hadde  it  non  rynd ; 
Quan  the  maydyn  hazt  that  che  lovit,  che  is  without 
longyng. 

This  is  clearly  not  a  ballad:  it  is  too  personal,  it  has 
no  story,  nor  does  it  suggest  any,  definitely.  But  it  seems 
to  be  related  at  least  slightly  to  "Captain  Wedderburn's 
Courtship"  (No.  46),  and  one  might  at  first  conjecture 
that  this  piece  originally  did  have  a  story  and  was  more 
ballad-like,  and  that  what  we  have  is  a  mere  fragment, 
if  it  were  not  that  there  are  other  pieces  of  precisely 
the  same  style  both  in  this  manuscript  and  in  others, 


1 — The  Bronie  Play,  Abraham  and  Isaac,  dated  1470-80,.  Manly, 
Pre- Shakespearian  Drama,  vol.  I,  p.  44,  50,  51,  has  cases  of  line 
repetition  that  suggest  the  manner  of  the  ballad. 


120 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


and  if,  furthermore,  this  very  piece  had  not  come  down 
to  us  in  practically  the  same  form  in  a  modern  nursery 
rime.1   Precisely  similar  in  its  lack  of  narrative  is  the 

I  have  a  gentil  cock  crowyt  me  day 

He  doth  me  rysyn  eriy  my  matynis  for  to  say. 

This  piece  shows  parallelism  of  stanza  structure,  more 
wonderful,  and  there  are  certain  agreements  with  the 
cock  described  in  Chaucer's  Nonn,e  Prestes  Tale.2 

Another  poem  with  more  story,  but  inclined  to  be 
vulgar,  begins  in  the  same  way : 

I  have  a  newe  gardyn,  and  newe  is  begunne ; 
Swych  another  gardyn  know  I  not  under  sunne. 

The  type  is  surely  a  strange  one,  but  we  shall  meet 
with  it  later  and  may  postpone  further  words  until 
then. 

There  are  a  few  other  interesting  poems  in  this  manu- 
script, but  save  "Kyrie,  so  kyrie,  Jankyn  syngyt  merie, 
with  aleyson, "  (a  poem  with  Judas  meter  and  paral- 
lelism of  structure,)  there  is  nothing  we  need  mention. 
Wright  in  his  introduction  to  MS.  Eng.  Poet.  e.  L,  Bod- 
leian (Songs  and  Carols,  Percy  Soc,  1847),  said  there 
was  only  one  other  manuscript  of  the  period  that  was 

1 —  Quoted  in  a  note  to  the  poem  in  Wright,  from  Halliwell's 
Popular  Rhymes  and  Nursery  Tales,  p.  150:  The  Four  Sisters, 
still  current  in  North  England.  I  have  four  sisters  beyond  the 
sea,  (Eef.)  /  And  they  did  send  four  presents  to  me,  (Ref.) 

The  first  it  was  a  bird  without  e'er  a  bone  (Ref.)  /  The  second 
was  a  cherry  without  e'er  a  stone  (Ref.). 

The  third  it  was  a  blanket  without  e'er  a  thread  (Ref.)  /  The 
fourth  it  was  a  book  which  no  man  could  reade. 

How  can  there  be  a  bird  without  e'er  a  bone?  (etc.,  each  of  the 
above  put  in  a  question?). 

When  the  bird 's  in  the  shell,  there  is  no  bone .... 
When  the  cherry's  in  the  bud,  there  is  no  stone.  . .  . 
When  the  blanket's  in  the  fleece,  there  is  no  thread.  . .  . 
When  the  book  is  in  the  press,  no  man  can  read. . .  . 

2 —  Passage  quoted  in  Wright's  note. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


121 


like  it,  and  that  was  the  collection  he  was  then  editing. 
But  from  our  point  of  view  the  two  collections  are  not 
similar.  True,  the  two  duplicate  each  other  somewhat, 
but  not  in  those  poems  that  make  the  Sloane  MS.  for 
us  most  interesting.  I  am  not  saying  that  the  Bodleian 
MS.  is  not  itself  a  rich  collection, — for  its  contents  are 
just  as  varied  as  the  Sloane,  with  particularly  some 
satirical  songs  against  the  fair  sex  and  several  choice 
drinking-songs,  but  all  lack  those  interesting  affinities 
to  the  ballad.1  In  the  latter  respect  the  Sloane  MS.  is 
practically  unique  in  its  century,  and  it  leads  one  to 
ponder  on  the  reason.  There  are  several  possibilities. 
Perhaps  it  was  because  ballads  were  too  well  known 
and  commonplace  to  suggest  that  they  needed  to  be 
copied  down,  though  in  that  case  one  might  expect  an 
occasional  literary  allusion.  Perhaps  they  were  de- 
spised, as  Ave  are  assured  they  were  in  later  centuries, 
but  in  this  connection  it  must  be  remembered  that  it 
was  against  stall-ballads  and  their  like  that  the  later 
attacks  were  almost  exclusively  directed,  and  person- 
ally I  am  Puritan  enough  to  believe  the  censure  well 
deserved.    Perhaps  the  Child  ballad  was  not  common 


1 — The  nearest  approach  is  the  following: 

Hey,  howe,  selymen,  God  helpe  zowe, 
Thys  indrys  day  befel  a  stryfe, 
Betwex  an  old  man  and  his  wyfe; 
Sehe  toke  hym  by  the  berd  so  plyzt, 

With  hey  how. 
Sehe  toke  hin  by  the  berd  so  fast, 
Tyll  both  hys  eyn  on  water  gan  brast, 

With  hey  how. 
Howt  at  the  dore  as  he  gan  goo, 
Met  with  hys  neybrys  too; 
Neybur,  why  wepyst  soo,  With  hey  how? 
In  my  hows  ys  swyche  a  smeke, 
Goo  ondyr  and  ze  schall  mete,  With  hey  how?  . 

This  is  indeed  a  close  approach  to  the  ballad. 


122 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


in  the  15th  century.1  Though  the  Sloane  MS.  is  the 
richest  in  balladry  of  any  up  to  the  Percy  Folio,  it 
nevertheless  contains  but  two  ballads  and  a  number  of 
approaches,  which,  however,  are  not  in  themselves  as 
interesting  from  any  point  of  view  as  is  the  average 
specimen  in  the  Child  collection.  If  the  latter  was  so 
common  indeed,  why  did  not  more  of  the  real  ballads 
get  into  the  manuscript?  The  collector  evidently  had 
a  taste  for  such  things.  From  the  evidence  of  this  and 
other  early  collections.  I  am  personally  inclined  to 
believe  that  the  Child  ballad  even  at  this  early  century, 
though  it  may  have  been  thought  commonplace,  was 
not  very  common,  and  that  it  was  even  then  quite  out 
of  the  world  of  "current"  literature. 

We  have  said  that  the  Sloane  MS.  is  practically 
unique  for  its  century,  in  its  contribution  of  ballad-like 
material.  But  here  and  there  in  other  manuscripts  will 
occasionally  be  found  a  poem  of  interest.  Thus,  in 
Cambridge  University  Library  MS.  Ff .  5,  48,  containing 
"Robin  Hood  and  the  Monk,"  there  is  a  rime  too  per- 
sonal indeed  for  a  ballad,  and  yet  not  far  removed  from 
the  type  in  tone  and  parallelism  of  structure,  and  it 
suggests  somewhat  indecorously  a  story : 

I  have  f orsworne  hit  whil  I  life,  to  wake  the  well. 

The  last  tyme  I  the  wel  woke, 

Sir  John  caght  me  with  a  croke, 

He  made  me  to  swere  be  bel  and  boke 

I  shuld  not  tell. 
3et  he  did  me  a  wel  wors  turne, 
He  leyde  my  hed  agayn  the  burne, 


1— It  is  possible,  of  course,  that  the  Child  ballad  was  neither 
despised  nor  very  common.  It  was  known  to  some,  but  regarded 
as  a  thing  of  the  past.  Beloved,  perhaps,  but  looked  upon  as 
something  quite  out  of  the  current  style.  It  was  therefore  thought 
that  it  could  not  possibly  be  of  interest  to  still  later  generations. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


123 


He  gafe  my  mayden-hed  a  sprne, 

And  ref  my  bell. 
Sir  John  came  to  oure  hows  to  play 
Fro  evensong  tyme  til  light  of  the  day; 
"We  made  as  mery  as  flowers  in  May. 

I  was  begyled. 
Sir  John  he  came  to  our  hows, 
He  made  hit  wonder  copious, 
He  seyd  that  I  was  gracious 

To  beyre  a  child. 
I  go  with  childe,  wel  I  wot, 
I  schrew  the  feder  that  hit  gote, 
Withowtin  hen  fynde  hit  mylke  and  pape, 

A  long  while  ey. 

This  poem  is  not  in  the  ballad  stanza,  but  in  another 
manuscript  in  the  same  library,  MS.  Ee.  1,  12,  there  is 
entered,  apparently  in  a  handwriting  different  from 
that  on  either  side,1  a  rime  in  ballad  couplet,  which, 
though  trivial  in  tone,  and  with  too  much  incremental 
repetition,  if  such  be  possible,  does  possess  enough  bal- 
lad traits  to  give  it  fair  claim  to  be  considered  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Child  type.   It  reads :  . 

The  fals  fox  camme  unto  oure  croft, 
And  so  our  gese  full  fast  he  sought; 

With  how,  fox,  how,  with  hey,  fox,  hey ; 

Come  no  more  unto  oure  house  to  bere  oure  gese  aweye. 

The  fals  fox  camme  unto  oure  stye, 

And  toke  our  gese  there  by  and  by;  With  how,  etc. 

The  fals  fox  camme  into  oure  yerde, 
And  there  he  made  the  gese  af erde ;  etc. 

1 — I  have  not  seen  the  MS.,  and  the  description  in  the  Library 
Catalogue  is  confused.  The  piece  is  found  in  folio  80b.  Up  to 
folio  80  the  handwriting  is  uniform,  and  on  80a  there  is  a  colo- 
phon which  should  give  the  date  1492,  though  it  has  been  pur 
posely  mutilated.  The  description,  say  from  81b  to  105b,  is  in 
a  different  hand,  though  of  the  same  general  character,  some  of 
the  pieces  being  mere  transcripts  of  the  first  part.  Much  of  the 
material  is  hymns. 


124 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


The  fals  fox  camme  unto  oure  gate, 

And  toke  oure  gese  there  where  they  sate;  etc. 

The  fals  fox  camme  to  oure  halle  dore ; 
And  shrove  oure  gese  there  in  the  flore ; 

The  fals  fox  camme  into  our  halle, 

And  assayled  oure  gese  both  grete  and  small; 

The  fals  fox  camme  unto  oure  cowpe, 
And  there  he  made  oure  gese  to  stowpe ; 

He  toke  a  .gose  fast  by  the  nek, 
And  the  gose  thoo  begann  to  quek ; 

The  good  wyfe  camme  out  in  her  smok, 
And  at  the  fox  she  threw  hir  rok ; 

The  good  man  camme  out  with  his  flayle, 
And  smote  the  fox  upon  the  tayle ; 

He  threw  a  gose  upon  his  bak, 

And  furth  he  went  thoo  with  his  pak; 

The  goodmann  swore,  yf  that  he  myght, 
He  wolde  hym  slee  or  it  were  nyght; 

The  fals  fox  went  into  his  denne, 
And  he  was  full  mery  thenne; 

He  camme  ayene  yet  the  next  wek, 
And  toke  awey  both  henne  and  chek; 

The  goodman  saide  unto  his  wyfe, 
This  fals  fox  lyveth  a  mery  lyfe; 

The  fals  fox  camme  uponn  a  day, 
And  with  our  gese  he  made  a  ffray ; 

He  toke  a  goose  fast  by  the  nek, 
And  made  her  to  sey  wheccumquek ; 

"I  pray  the  Fox,"  said  the  goose  thoo, 
''Take  of  my  feathers  but  not  of  my  to." 

The  story  element  in  the  piece  is  not  convincin 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


125 


strong;  the  material  indeed  seems  overworked.  But  it 
is  not  without  communal  tone,  and  its  very  clumsiness 
of  structure  suggests  the  possibility  of  an  improvising 
throng  much  more  impressively  than  many  a  more 
neatly  planned  ballad. 

The  early  16th  century  has  contributed  but  few  bal- 
lads outside  of  outlaw  material.  ''Robin  Hood  and  the 
Potter"  comes  to  us  from  a  manuscript  of  about  1500. 
One  or  two  prints  of  the  Gest  may  be  equally  old.  Two 
fragments  of  the  "Adam  Bell"  are  of  an  edition  of 
1536.  If  now  we  add  to  these  the  minstrel  product 
"Crow  and  Pie"  (No.  Ill)  we  have  a  complete  list  of 
all  the  ballad  pieces  of  the  time  that  Professor  Child 
admitted  into  his  collection.  But  in  that  list  there 
surely  ought  to  be  placed  one  other,  first  recognized  as 
a  ballad  by  that  acute  discoverer  of  ballads,  Mr.  F. 
Sidgwick.1  The  new  addition  is  "The  Jolly  Juggler," 
found  in  MS.  Balliol  354.  Besides  these  few  actual 
ballads,  the  early  16th  century  has  preserved  for  us 
also  a  number  of  other  poems  having  ballad  affinities, 
but  here  again  we  find  most  of  them  within  a  single 
manuscript,  the  one  just  mentioned — Balliol  354.  The 
period  has  also  contributed  several  other  things  of 
interest  to  the  history  of  balladry.  In  particular  there 
are  one  or  two  ballad2  allusions  such  as  that  of  Skelton 
to  the  "Friar  in  the  Well"  (No.  276)  : 


1 —  First  identified  in  his  Popular  Ballads  of  the  Olden  Time, 
third  series,  1906,  London.  He  mentions  his  discovery  in  three 
different  places  in  the  volume,  and  prints  the  piece  in  the  appen- 
dix, p.  211.  It  had  previously  appeared  in  Anglia,  XXVI,  278. 
Sidgwick  was  also  the  discoverer  of  the  ' '  Bitter  Withy, ' '  the 
only  other  ballad  added  by  general  agreement  to  the  Child  col- 
lection. ' 

2 —  Of  course  there  are  numeious  Eobin  Hood  allusions,  for 
which  see  the  preceding  chapter. 


126 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


But  when  the  freare  fell  in  the  well 

He  coud  not  syng  himselfe  theront 

But  by  the  helpe  of  Christyan  Clout,    vv.  879  f. 

Colyn  Cloute ;  quoted  by  Child,  V.,  p.  100. 

This  allusion  might  be  to  some  other  verse  form  than 
the  ballad,1  but  it  seems  hardly  probable,  when  we 
recollect  that  Skelton's  poetry  itself  has  sometimes  bal- 
lad affinities.2  The  early  16th  century  has  contributed 
also  considerable  material  concerning  literary  and  pror 
fessional  balladry.3  and  our  earliest  printed  copies  of 
ballads  of  every  type  come  from  it. 

The  outlaw  ballads  just  mentioned  need  no  further 
discussion  than  that  given  them  in  a  previous  chapter.4 
It  is  well,  however,  to  state  in  passing  that  the  same 


1 —  Child  mentions  that  a  somewhat  similar  story  is  ' '  The 
Wright 's  Chaste  Wife, ' '  by  Adam  of  Cobsam. 

2 —  Cf.  chapter  1,  pp.  25-26,  and  notes — this  thesis.  And  also 
later  4,  142  f.  See  also  Munday  and  Chettles,  Downfall  of  Eobert 
Earl  of  Huntingdon,  pp.  6,  45  f . 

3 —  There  are  many  passages  illustrating  what  was  at  this  time 
meant  by  a  ballad.  See  for  example  the  account  in  the  "  Inter- 
lude of  the  Four  Elements,"  quoted  in  a  note  to  chapter  1,  p.  26. 
note  3 — this  thesis.  There  is  illustration  also  in  Eoy  and  Bar- 
lowe's  Bede  me  and  he  nott  wroth e  of  an  actual  ballad  or  balett 
sung.  Of  course  it  is  not  of  the  Child  type.  Barklay  has  con- 
siderable material  scattered  through  his  Eclogues,  as  in  his  4th 
eclogue,  for  example : 

"When  your  fat  dishes  smoke  hot  upon  your  table, 
Then  laude  ye  songs,  and  ballades  magnific; 
If  they  be  merry,  or  written  craftely, 
Ye  clap  your  handes  and  to  the  making  harke, 
And  one  say  to  another,  Lo,  here  a  proper  worke !  ' ' 
Quoted  by  Chappell,  Popular  Music  1,  53,  Lydgate,  Skelton;  the 
romances  also  furnish  material. 

In  the  eclogue  Codrus  is  anxious  to  hear  Minalcas 's  ' '  old  bal- 
lades." What  he  hears  is  two  pieces,  called  ballads,  the  first  an 
"extract  of  sapience,"  which  he  stops  after  four  stanzas;  and 
the  second  a  ballad  of  Hawonde,  "His  death  complayning. " 
Neither  has  a  shred  of  popularity,  and  Minalcas  gets  no  reward. 

4 —  Chapter  III,  of  course. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


127 


manuscript1  that  contains  "Robin  Hood  and  the  Pot- 
ter," likewise  contains  as  its  very  next  piece  the  inter- 
esting rime  of  1 1  The  King  and  the  Barker. ' '  Professor 
Child  has  declined  to  give  to  the  latter  the  status  of  a 
popular  ballad,  though  he  agrees2  with  Ritson  that  it 
is  the  undoubted  original  of  the  "History  of  King 
Edward  the  Fourth  and  a  Tanner  of  Tamworth,"  which 
in  its  turn  is  the  original  of  a  popular  ballad  by  that 
name  (No.  .273).  "The  ballad,"  as  we  have  it,  was 
made  by  abridging  the  fifty-six  stanzas  of  the  history 
to  thirty-nine,  with  other  changes.  "Between  the 
' History'  and  'The  King  and  the  Barker,'  "  Child  says. 
Though  the  former  has  been  freely  treated  in  its 
remodeling,  and  has  come  to  us  in  a  mutilated  condi- 
tion, there  remain  a  few  verbal  correspondences.  The 
"King  and  the  Barker"  is  hardly  to  be  accredited  to 
the  list  of  ballads.  However,  it  is  almost  as  much  of 
one — though  of  a  very  different  type — as  is  the  "Inter 
diabolus  et  virgo."  I  must  confess  that  what  Pro- 
fessor Child  pronounces  the  popular  ballad  seems  to 

1 —  This  manuscript  (University  of  Cambridge  Library,  El.  IV, 
35),  according  to  the  printed  catalogue  of  the  Library,  is  the 
first  of  two  distinct  MSS.  bound  in  one  volume.  It  is  described 
as  on  paper  24  leaves,  about  30  lines  in  each  page,  handwriting 
of  the  early  part  of  the  16th  century,  mutilated  in  several  places: 
the  orthography  corrupt.  Eight  pieces  are  listed,  of  which  No.  4 
is  1 '  The  Cheylde  and  his  Stepdame/ '  No.  6, ' '  Eobin  Hood, ' '  No.  7, 
' '  The  Kyng  and  the  Barker. ; '  The  two  MSS.  are  now  bound 
separately.  Ours  is  in  an  excellent  state  of  preservation.  The 
paper  is  thick  and  the  handwriting  bold  and  legible.  It  seems 
all  to  be  the  work  of  one  man.  The  first  folios  have  red  strokes 
for  beginning  capitals,  but  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort  after  that. 
The  rimes  also  for  the  first  few  pages  are  bracketed  with  fancy 
brackets.  Robin  Hood  begins  at  the  top  of  folio  14b.  It  is 
written  neatly,  but  without  ornamentation  and  without  stanza  or 
rime  indications.  The  King  and  the  Barker  seems  in  a  some- 
what more  cramped  hand,  though  the  same.  It  too  begins  at  the 
top  of  its  page  (folio  19b). 

2 —  Child,  V,  68  f.  He  refers  to  Ritson,  Ancient  Popular  Poetry, 
1791,  p.  57. 


128 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


me  the  work  of  a  clever  minstrel.  The  "King  and  the 
Barker"  is  more  naive  than  this  real  ballad,  and  less 
artful.  It  has  the  same  style  and  meter  as  Gamelyn. 
There  is  much  dialogue.  One  stanza  is  repeated,1  and 
for  three  stanzas2  there  is  good  case  of  incremental 
repetition. 

The  only  other  ballad  in  the  Child  list  is  the  "Crow 
and  Pie"  (No.  Ill),  and  of  this,  sadly  enough,  there 
is  not  much  favorable  to  say.  It  is  found  in  MS.  Raw- 
linson  C.  813,  which  has  been  printed  in  its  entirety  by 
Professor  Padelford,  in  Anglia,  vol.  XXXI,  pp.  309  if. 
The  piece,  like  everything  else  in  its  manuscript,  is  of  a 
very  mediocre  caliber;  but  it  alone  shows  any  close- 
ness to  the  Child  type.  The  meter  and  stanza  struc- 
ture of  much  of  this  manuscript  collection  is  not  very 
sure.  The  verse  hobbles  and  the  rime  varies  in  group- 
ing. Much  of  the  material  is  stallish  in  tone.  Thus, 
No.  6  is  a  warning  of  a  soul  from  hell,  precisely  in  the 
manner  of  later  stall  pieces.  Stallish,  also,  is  the  warn- 
ing: "The  Lamentatyon  of  Edward,  late  Duke  of 
Buckyngham."  As  to  the  "Crow  and  Pie,"  Professor 
Child  says  that  it  "is  not  a  purely  popular  ballad,  but 
rather  of  that  kind  which,  for  convenience,  may  be 
called  the  minstrel  ballad.    It  has,  however,  popular 

1 —  With  a  slight  variation  stanzas  9  and  23. 

2 —  Stanzas  46,  47,  48.    To  them  might  be  added  44. 

With  a  stombellyng  as  he  rode, 

ye  fanner  downe  he  cast, 
The  kyng  lowke  and  had  god  game, 

arid  seyde,  Ser,  hon  rydyst  to  ffast. 

The  kyng  lowke  and  had  god  game, 

and  swore  he  be  Sent  John, 
Seche  another  horsman 

say  y  neuere  none. 

Owre  kyng  lowke  and  had  god  bord, 

and  sware  be  Sent  Jame, 
Y  most  nedys  lawke, 

and  thow  were  mey  dame. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


129 


features,  and  markedly  in  stanzas  13,  14."  To  me  the 
piece  seems  like  a  working  over  of  popular  material. 
It  seems  to  be  that  rather  than  a  ballad  imitation  or  a 
piece  with  merely  some  lines  and  methods  borrowed  from 
the  general  popular  type.  I  believe  there  are  even  left 
evidences  of  two  different  styles  of  verse  form.  It  is 
not  composed  in  either  of  the  common  ballad  meters. 
Every  line  is  supposed  to  have  four  beats,  and  I  have 
not  much  doubt  that  its  present  author  intended  it  to 
be  written  in  eight-line  stanzas  with  a  twelve-line 
envoi.  Such  best  fit  the  refrain  and  most  of  the  rimer 
which  runs  in  good  part  ababbcbc.  But  there  are  some 
of  the  stanzas  that  are  ababcdcd,  as  if  they  had  been 
built  on  an  original  four-line  basis.  There  is,  however, 
too  much  bad  poetry  in  the  whole  collection  to  make 
any  conclusion  certain. 

Passing  now  to  the  "Jolly  Juggler,"  we  reach  very 
much  more  interesting  material,  not  that  the  poem  is . 
in  itself  of  any  high  excellence, — though  I  think  it 
much  better  than  the  "Crow  and  Pie," — but  because 
it  is  always  interesting  to  meet  with  a  possible  addi- 
tion to  the  Child  collection.  This  ballad  has  been  dis- 
covered independently  at  least  three  different  times. 
The  account  is  not  without  interest,  because  it  shows, 
that  though  it  is  hard  to  define  a  ballad,  the  latter  cam 
be  easily  identified  when  a  clear  specimen  is  found.  Im 
the  autumn  of  1908,  while  at  this  work  on  ballads,  I 
took  occasion  to  read  through  the  Early  English  Text 
Society  edition  of  MS.  Balliol  354,  which  had  just  ap- 
peared. On  reaching  the  "Jolly  Juggler"  I  was  im- 
mediately aware  I  had  found  a  ballad.  The  editor  had 
practically  nothing  to  say   about  it,1  and  Professor 

1 — The  editor  merely  says:  "The  next  piece  (98)  is  narra- 
tive again;  how  the  fair  baron's  daughter  was  beguiled  by  a 
'joly  juggeler.'  " 


130 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Fliigel  in  Anglia  had  printed  it  without  comment.  I 
therefore  thought  I  had  made  a  discovery,  and  com- 
municated the  fact  to  Professor  Kittredge.  His  reply 
was  that  the^poem  is  undoubtedly  a  ballad,  but  that 
Mr.  Sidgwick  had  previously  discovered  it,  and  I 
learned  afterwards  from  that  he  had  had  the  same  ex- 
perience as  I  when  he  first  read  it  in  Anglia.  He  too 
thought  he  had  discovered  a  ballad  until  he  read  Mr. 
Sidgwick 's  prior  claim. 

"The  Jolly  Juggler"  has  been  printed  now  at  least 
four  times,1  and  is  thus  easily  accessible.  Nevertheless, 
the  interest  attaching  to  it  warrants  its  quotation 
here  in  full : 

Drawe  me  nere,  draw  me  nere, 

Drawe  me  nere,  J?e  joly  juggelere. 
Here  beside  dwellith  a  riche  barons  dowghter ; 
She  wold  have  no  man  ]?at  for  her  love  had  sowght  her, 

So  nyse  she  was. 
She  wold  have  no  man  ]?at  was  made  of  molde. 
But  yf  he  had  a  mowth  of  gold,  to  kiss  her  whan  she 
wold, 

So  dangerus  she  was. 
There  of  hard  a  joly  juggeler  J?at  layd  was  on  >e  gren, 
&  at  this  ladis  wordis,  ywis,  he  had  gret  tene : 

And  angrid  he  was. 
He  juggeled  to  hym  a  well  good  stede  of  an  old  horsbon. 
A  sadill  &  a  brydill  both,  &  set  hym  self  J?er-on ; 

A  juggler  he  was. 
He  priked  &  pransid  both  beffore  J^at  ladis  gate, 
She  wend  he  [had]  ben  an  angell  was  com  for  her  sake  : 

A  prikker  he  was. 
He  pryked  &  pransid  beffore  >at  ladys  towr, 
She  went  he  had  ben  an  angell  commen  from  hevyn 
towre : 

A  praunser  he  was. 

1 — It  has  also  been  reprinted  on  pp.  251  ff.  of  Early  English 
Lyrics,  1907. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


131 


XX  IHIti1  knyghtis  lade  hym  in  to  the  hall, 
&  as  many  squyres  his  hors  to  the  stall, 
&  gaff  hym  mete. 

They  gaff  hym  ottis  &  also  hay. 
He  was  an  old  shrew,  &  held  his  hed  a-wey  : 
He  wold  not  ete. 

The  day  began  to  passe ;  ]?e  nyght  began  to  com, 
To  bede  was  browght  the  fayr  jentyll  woman 
&  ]?e  jnggeler  also. 

The  nyght  began  to  passe,  J?e  day  began  to  sprynge, 
All  the  brydis  of  her  bowr,  they  began  to  synge 
&  ]?e  cokoo  also. 

"Wher  be  ye,  my  mery  maydyns,  ]?at  ye  cum  not  me 
to? 

pe  joly  wyndows  of  my  bowr  lok  ]?at  you  undoo, 
pat  I  may  see ; 

For  I  have  in  myn  armes  a  duk  or  ellis  an  erle." 
But  when  she  loked  hym  upon,  he  was  a  blere-eyed 
churl ; 
"Alas !"  she  said. 

She  lade  hym  to  an  hill,  &  hangid  shuld  he  be ; 
He  juggeled  hymn  self  to  a  mele  pok;  ]?e  duste  fell  in 
her  eye; 
Begiled  she  was. 

God  &  owr  Lady  &  swete  Seynt  Johan, 
Send  every  giglot  of  this  town  such  an-oper  leman, 
Evyn  as  he  was! 
Explicit. 

There  is  no  doubt,  this  is  a  ballad  of  the  Child  type. 
The  tags  at  the  end  of  each  stanza  are  exceptional,  but 
then  they  are  not  necessary  to  the  sense  and  may  have 
been  added  by  some  minstrel  or  singer.    They  do  not 


1 — I  read  it  this  way  instead  of  XXIIIIti.  Probably "  to  be 
read  ''four  and  twenty." 


132 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


particularly  fit  the  general  tone.1  The  poem  has  a  story 
that  somewhat  suggests  the  "Jolly  Beggar"  (No.  279), 
though  it  is  not  the  same.  Stanzas  5  and  6,  and  9  and 
10,  are  especially  ballad-like.  There  is  incremental  repe- 
tition and  parallelism  of  structure,  The  whole  is  a 
vigorous  enough  piece,  quite  in  the  ballad-manner. 

From  the  ballad  itself  we  may  well  pass  to  a  consid- 
eration of  the  manuscript  in  which  it  is  found, — for 
Balliol  354  is  as  varied  and  interesting  a  collection  as 
any  manuscript  of  the  early  16th  century.  It  has  now 
in  large  part,  been  twice  printed,  first  by  Professor 
Fliigel  in  Anglia,2  and  lately  by  Dr.  R.  Dyboski  for  the 
Early  English  Text  Society.3  The  latter  edition  has 
considerable  critical  material,  though  it  is  by  no  means 
exhaustive. 

MS.  Baliol  354,  or,  as  it  is  more  generally  called, 
Richard  Hill's  Commonplace  Book,  is  described  by 
Dyboski  as  a  paper  codex  in  oblong  folio  (ll1/2x4:(/2  in.). 
The  handwriting  of  the  chief  poetical  pieces  is  pretty 
uniform,  and  was  identified  by  Coxe4  (though  Fliigel 
thinks  without  reason)5  with  that  of  one  John  Hyde. 
The  only  name,  however,  that  occurs  in  the  manuscript 
itself,  is  that  of  its  owner,  Richard  Hill,  about  whom 
and  his  children  there  are  several  memoranda,  entered 
apparently  by  himself.  The  book  consists  of  4  +  253 
folios.  The  period  of  its  gradual  composition  is  ap- 
proximately fixed  by  some  of  the  private  memoranda  as 


1 —  Even  the  tag  to  stanza  9  ("  &  ]?e  juggeler  also")  is  not  abso- 
lutely necessary.  Its  omission  creates  a  little  suspense.  The  tag 
to  stanza  12  ("Alas!  she  said")  seems  to  me  quite  inappropriate. 

2—  XXVI,  94  ff. 

3—  Extra  series  CI,  1907,  issued  in  1908. 

4 —  Catalogus,  Oxonii,  1&52. 

5 —  Anglia,  XXVI,  94-5.     I  do  not  see  any  reason  either. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


133 


extending  over  the  earlier  part  of  Henry  VIII 's  reign.1 
The  book  is  an  interesting  example  of  commonplace 
book — into  which  were  entered,  first,  poems  and  songs 
which  struck  a  man  as  worth  transcribing  and  preserv- 
ing for  family  use,  and  secondly,  prose  notes  of  a  most 
varied  character  on  anything  of  interest  that  he  came 
across.  Most  of  the  material  in  the  present  manuscript 
is  by  no  means  unique.  Thus,  according  to  Dr.  Dyboski 's 
notes,  the  Bodleian  MS.  Eng.  poet.  e.  1.  contains  nearly 
a  score  of  pieces  that  duplicate  poems  in  the  present 
manuscript.  In  fact,  over  a  third  of  the  latter 's  poems 
are  to  be  found  elsewhere  in  a  range  of  about  a  score 
of  different  collections.2  The  greatest  part  of  the 
Sacred  Songs  and  Carols"  are  found  together  in  the 
manuscript,  and  Dyboski  thinks  they  were  probably 
transcribed  in  one  series  from  a  then  extant  collection.3 
He  thinks  also  that  his  Nos.  60-63  were  transcribed  in 
bulk  from  a  Caxton  quarto  printed  about  1479. 4  He 
notes  about  the  large  selection  of  tales  from  Gower's 
Confessio  Amantis  (which  he  leaves  out),  that  the  lan- 


1 —  The  latest  distinct  date  in  the  whole  MS.  is  that  of  the  last 
in  a  series  of  annalistic  historical  notes;  it  is  1536  (computed). 
Fliigel  thought  (Anglia,  XXVI,  188  f.)  that  since  Hill  styled  him- 
self (fol.  176)  servant  to  Mr.  Wynger,  alderman  of  London,  that 
this  portion  of  the  MS.  must  have  been  written  before  1504,  for 
that  year  John  Wynger  became  Mayor.  But  Dyboski  states  on  the 
authority  of  Dr.  Wylie  that  mayors  were  only  called  by  that  title 
while  they  held  office.  However,  Fliigel  cites  from  Stowe's  Sur- 
vey, 1603,  p.  228,  that  John  Wyngar  was  buried  in  St.  Mary 
Woolchurch  in  1505.  This  would  seem  to  point  that  Fliigel  is 
practically  right.  It  would  hardly  seem  probable  that  Hill  would 
continue  calling  himself  servant  to  Mr.  Wynger  long  after  the 
latter 's  death. 

2 —  Dyboski  has  made  no  lists.  Most  of  the  collections  have  not 
more  than  one  or  two  in  common.  The  Sloane  MS.  2593  has  at 
least  five;  English  Carols,  from  a  roll  in  Trinity  College  (Mait- 
land-Eockstro),  has  three;  Lambeth,  S.  306,  two. 

3—  Introduction,  p.  XVII. 

4 —  lb.     He  notes  other  indications  of  the  sort,  passim. 


134 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


guage  is  modernized  not  only  as  to  forms  and  endings, 
but  also  in  the  substitution  of  words  more  generally 
used  in  Hill's  time  for  such  of  Gower's  as  had  become 
obsolete  or  less  intelligible.1 

Dr.  Dyboski  does  not  print  the  whole  contents  of  the 
book,  though  everything  is  described  in  manuscript 
order  in  a  valuable  table  of  contents  at  the  end  of  his 
introduction.2  His  edition  contains  everything  that  is 
of  any  moment  to  us,  however,  so  that  we  need  not  go 
farther.  He  has  classified  and  rearranged  the  material 
under  six  different  heads,  but  in  that  we  need  not  follow 
him.3  It  suffices  to  say  that  among  other  things  there 
are  numerous  religious  songs  and  carols — particularly 
Christmas  carols, — that  there  are  many  moral,  and 
didactic,  and  historical  poems,  (often  minstrel  pieces,  no 
doubt,  and  much  like  later  stall  productions,) — and  some 
few  ballads,  worldly  songs,  and  humorous  pieces.  It 
will  probably  be  best  to  take  up  the  poems  that  concern 
us  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  found  in  the  manu- 
script. 

It  is  not  until  folio  165b  that  we  meet  with  anything 
particularly  folk-like,  but  the  piece  there  found  happens 
to  be  one  especially  interesting.  It  follows  a  "book  of 
courtesy"  entitled  "Little  John."4  Our  poem  reads: 

Lully,  lulley,  lully,  lulley! 

pe  fawcon  hath  born  my  mak  away. 

He  bare  hym  vp,  he  bare  hym  down, 

He  bare  hym  into  an  orchard  brown.    Lully,  etc. 

1—  lb.,  p.  XXVIII. 

2—  Pp.  XXXIV,  ff. 

3 —  1,  Sacred  Songs  and  Carols.  2,  Eeligious  Poems  and  Prayers 
in  Verse.  3,  Didactic,  Moral  and  Allegorical  Poems.  4,  Histori- 
cal Poems.  5,  Ballads  and  Worldly  Songs.  6,  Proverbs,  Sen- 
tences and  Eules  in  Verse  and  Prose. 

4 —  Cf.  Early  English  Text  Society,  Extra  Series,  III.  The 
name  L.  J.  seems  to  be  without  significance. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


135 


In  }?at  orchard  per  was  an  hall, 

pat  was  hangid  with  purpill  &  pall.    Lully,  etc. 

And  in  pat  hall  per  was  a  bede, 

Hit  was  hangid  with  gold  so  rede.    Lully,  etc. 

And  yn  bat  bed  per  lythe  a  knyght, 

His  woundis  bledyng  day  &  nyght.    Lully,  etc. 

By  J?at  becles  side  per  kneleth  a  may, 

&  she  wepeth  both  nyght  &  day.    Lully,  etc. 

&  by  bat  beddis  side  per  standith  a  stone, 
"Corpus  Christi"  wretyn  ]?er-on.    Lully,  etc.1 

Professor  Fliigel  interpreted  the  poem  as  an  allegory 
of  Christ's  passion,  and  his  interpretation  seems  to  be 
very  strongly  substantiated  by  a  modern  traditional 
carol  contributed  from  North  Staffordshire  to  Notes  and 
Queries2  in  1862.  The  two  poems  were  compared  by 
Mr.  F.  Sidgwick  in  Notes  and  Queries3  in  1905.    In  the 


1 —  On  reading  the  verses  over  again,  I  am  puzzled  with  the 
relation  of  the  refrain  to  the  text.  Does  lie  refer  to  the  falcon? 
If  so,  there  is  surely  no  suggestion  of  the  Grail  story.  It  is 
merely  an  account  of  how  the  falcon  took  her  mate  to  the  bed- 
side of  Christ. 

2 —  Third  Series,  II,  103,  by  a  correspondent  signing  himself 
F.  T.  K. 

3 —  Tenth  Series,  IV,  181.  The  carol  is  quoted  in  a  note  to 
Early  English  Lyrics,  p.  357,  as  follows: 

1.  Over  yonder 's  a  park,  which  is  newly  begun, 
All  bells  in  Paradise  I  heard  them  a-ring ; 
Which  is  silver  on  the  outside,  and  gold  within. 
And  J.  love  sweet  Jesus  above  all  things. 

2.  And  in  that  park  there  stands  a  hall, 

"Which  is  covered  all  over  with  purple  and  pall. 

3.  And  in  that  hall  there  stands  a  bed, 

Which  is  hung  all  round  with  silk  curtains  so  red. 

4.  And  in  that  bed  there  lies  a  knight, 

Whose  wounds  they  do  bleed  by  day  and  by  night. 

5.  At  that  bed  side  there  lies  a  stone, 

Which  is  our  blessed  Virgin  Mary  then  kneeling  on. 

6.  At  that  bed's  foot  there  lies  a  hound, 

Which  is  licking  the  blood  as  it  daily  runs  down. 

7.  At  that  bed's  head  there  grows  a  thorn, 

Which  was  never  so  blossomed  since  Christ  was  born. 
My  mother  used  to  sing  me  a  song,  purely  secular,  that  also 


136 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


modern  version,  however,  there  is  nothing  correspond- 
ing to  the  first  stanza.  It  is  only  the  latter  that  seems 
to  suggest  any  story,  though  the  vividness  of  the  pic- 
ture may  help  to  contribute.  Probably  the  poem  is  of 
the  same  type  as  the  "I  have  a  zong  sister"  and  the  "I 
have  a  gentil  cook"1  of  Sloane  MS.  2593,  though  if  so. 
it  is  a  far  more  impressive  specimen.  Dr.  Dyboski 
thought  the  work  probably  fragmentary,  and  he  had 
confessed  that  it  reminded  him  strikingly  of  some  fea- 
tures of  the  Holy  Grail  legend,  as  told  in  the  French 
and  German  epics  on  the  Quest :  "  of  Perceval 's  meeting, 
on  his  wanderings,  with  King  Amfortas'  daughter,  then 
with  the  King  himself,  who  still  looks  up  to  the  Graal 
for  healing  of  his  ever-bleeding  wound."  The  parallels 
would  indeed  be  suggestive  if  it  were  not  for  this  modern 
version.  Furthermore,  in  Wolfram's  Parzival  the  Grail 
is  a  stone.2  It  is  just  possible  that  the  poem  shows  a 
mixture  of  tradition  and  that  there  is  a  bit  of  the  Quest 
legend  still  in  it. 

The  "Lully,  lulley"  poem  is  followed  on  the  same 
page  -by  a  Christmas  carol,  "Owt  of  J?e  est  a  sterre 
shon  bright,"  which  shows  in  stanzas  5,  6,  and  7  con- 
*  siderable  parallelism  of  structure. 


fits  in  with  this  type.  She  learned  it  from  her  mother,  who  was 
brought  up  in  Canada.    The  air  sounds  quaint  and  old. 


1 —  They  differ  very  materially  in  their  extreme  personal  refer- 
ence. Perhaps  a  nearer  approach  is  a  quaint  old  accumulative 
song  sung  by  my  mother 's  mother,  ' '  Upon  a  time  there  was  a 
field,"  etc. 

2—  A.  Nutt.  Legends  of  the  Holy  Grail,  Popular  Studies  in 
Mythology  and  Folk-lore,  1902,  p.  18.  In  the  same  booklet,  it  is 
stated  in  Irish  myth  a  talisman.  The  Cauldron  of  Dagda,  from 
which  a  company  used  never  to  go  away  unsatisfied,  is  definitely 
associated  with  three  other  talismans:  the  sword  of  Lug,  the 
spear  Lug  used  in  battle,  and  the  Lia  Fail,  or  Stone  of  Destiny. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


137 


About  twelve  folios  later  there  is  another  poem  that 
begins: 

I  have  XII  oxen  J?at  be  fayre  &  brown, 
&  they  go  a  grasynge  down  by  the  town, 

With  hay,  with  ho  we,  with  hay ! 
Sawyste  thow  not  myn  oxen,  ]?ou  littell  prety  boy?1 

The  first  two  lines  are  varied  in  succeeding  stanzas  to 
inform  us  the  oxen  "be  fayre  and  whight, "  "fayre  and 
blak,"  and  "fayre  and  rede,"  and  that  they  "go  gras- 
yng  down  by  the  dyke,"  "by  the  lak,"  and  "by  the 
mede. "  Utter  nonsense,  every  bit  of  it!  and  yet  it  has 
interesting  parallel  structure ;  and  it  suggests  it  belongs 
to  the  "I  have  a  gentill  cook"  group.  Are  these  poems 
the  remote  ancestors  of  our  modern  nursery  rimes?  The 
idea  is  not  impossible.  Some  lines  from  "The  Image  of 
Ypocresye,"2  a  satire  not  much  later,  suggest  refer- 
ence to  "Goosy,  goosy  gander."  But  even  this  sug- 
gestion of  nursery  rimes  does  not  carry  us  very  far.3 

1 —  Quoted  in  full  in  Early  English  Lyrics,  p.  250. 

2 —  Printed  in  Ballads  from  Manuscripts,  Ballad  Society,  pp. 
181  ffi.,  from  Lansdowne  MS.  794.  The  poem,  dated  1533,  is  a 
long  invective  or  satire  by  a  layman,  after  the  manner  of  Skelton. 
Speaking  of  the  ignorance  of  preachers,  he  says,  11.  1556  ff . : 

for  doctoure  bullatus 
though  parum  literatus 
Will  brable  &  prate  thus; 
how  Doctoure  pomannder, 
As  wise  as  a  gander, 
notes  not  wher  to  wander, 
Whether  to  meander, 
or  unto  menander ; 
For  of  Alexander 
Irrefragable  hales, 
he  can  tell  many  tales, 
of  many  parke  pales, 
Of  Butgettes  and  of  males, 
Of  Candy  and  of  Cales, 
And  of  west  Wales. 
This  poem  has  an  interesting  Eobin  Hood  reference  at  1.  1530. 

3 —  It  seems  to  me  probable  that  the  ' '  I  have  XII  oxen ' '  rime 
was  used  for  some  game. 


138 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


It  does  not  explain  why  the  poems  were  composed,  or 
why  they  were  included  in  a  commonplace  book  in- 
stead of  other  pieces  more  worth  while,  such  as  Child 
ballads,  for  instance,  if  the  latter  were  at  all  common. 

Farther  on,  immediately  following  a  poem  on  "The 
Seven  Deadly  Sins"  (fol.  210a),  is  written  what  Pro- 
fessor Flugel  has  called  the  pearl  of  the  collection: 
"The  Nutbrown  Maid."  This  of  course  is  not  a  ballad 
in  the  Child  sense,  but  it  has  generally  been  treated  as 
one.  and  has  plaj^ed  a  conspicuous  part  in  ballad  his- 
tory. Chambers  and  Sidgwick  in  an  ample  note  to  the 
poem  as  printed  in  their  Early  English  Lyrics,1  have 
given  a  list  of  the  principal  facts  and  dates  of  literary 
interest.  In  so  far  as  known,  it  was  first  printed  at 
Antwerp  in  "  Arnold's  Chronicle"  or  Customs  of  London, 
about  1502;  (second  edition,  about  1521.)  Dr.  Dyboski 
thinks  the  poem  was  probably  copied  into  the  manu- 
script from  this  source  during  Hill's  stay  in  Antwerp.2 
That  is  possible  but  not  necessary  to  suppose, — for  the 
poem  was  in  circulation  as  a  pe^ny  chapbook  in  1520.3 
Frequent  reference  is  made  to  the  piece  thereafter,  but 
we  have  no  need  at  present  of  quoting  instances. 

Beginning  with  folio  219b  there  is  a  large  collection 
of  "Hymns,  Songs  and  Carols."  One  at  least,  "The 
Jolly  Shepperd  Wat,"  is  of  considerable  interest  for  its 
naive  tone  and  for  the  parallelism  running  through  the 
first  few  stanzas,  thus : 


1—  Pp.  334  f. 

2—  Introduction,  p.  XXX. 

3 —  A  full  account  given  in  Early  English  Lyrics,  note.  Wright 
stated  the  fact  in  1536,  as  something  he  had  been  told.  It  is 
number  294  of  John  Dome's  Day-book,  Bookseller  in  Oxford, 
1520.  Oxford  Historical  Society  Collectanea,  First  Series,  1885, 
Part  III.  Also  not  much  later  there  was  a  close  parody  written 
on  the  poem  and  published  in  B.  L.  by  John  Scot.  Edited  and  re- 
printed for  the  Percy  Society  by  E.  T.  Eimbault. 


ENGLISH  BALLADEY 


139 


The  sheperd  upon  a  hill  he  satt, .  . 

The  sheperd  upon  a  hill  was  layd, . . . 

The  sheperd  on  a  hill  he  stode  

Of  course  he  pays  a  visit  to  the  Christ-child  at  the 
birth.  It  is  told  with  considerable  spirit,  but  it  asso- 
ciates itself  more  naturally  with  the  miracle  plays.1 

Another  series  of  poems  are — so  Dyboski  says — all 
written  together  in  one  hand  and  evidently  at  one  time, 
on  the  last  ten  pages  of  the  manuscript,  (folio  248ff.) 
Several  are  to  the  discredit  of  women.  One,  a  vulgar 
piece  with  a  story  somewhat  like  that  of  the  Miller's 
Tale,  is  strongly  suggestive  of  balladry  in  the  first  two 
stanzas. 

Hogyn2  came  to  bowers  dore,  [repeated] 

Hr  tryled  upon  }>e  pyn  for  love,    )  [repeated] 

Hum,  ha,  trill  go  bell !  ) 
Up  she  rose  &  lett  hym  yn,  [repeated] 
She  had  a-went,  she  had  worshipped  all  her  kyn. 

Hum,  ha,  trill  go  bell!  [repeated  as  before.] 

This  is  somewhat  ballad-like,  but  even  if  it  were  more 
so,  no  one  would  quarrel  to  get  it  admitted  to  the  type. 

The  new  ballad,  "The  Jolly  Juggler,"  is  found  in 
this  same  last  group  of  songs  (on  folio  251).  It  stands 
just  after  a  poem  against  putting  trust  in  women  and 
before  a  "Holly  and  Ivy"  piece.  It  is  thus  near  to  the 
end  of  the  collection,  and  its  date  of  insertion  may  be 
regarded  as  fairly  well  along  toward  the  middle  of  the 
century. 

MS.  Additional,  31922,  of  the  British  Museum,  con- 

1 —  F.  Sidgwiek,  printed  privately  in  the  form  of  a  B.  L.  broad- 
side this  piece,  illustrating  it  with  a  French  woodcut.  It  is  a 
beautiful  piece  of  work,  on  hand-made  paper. 

2 —  In  1537  a  minstrel  or  fiddler  was  examined  for  singing  a 
song  against  the  Duke  of  Suffolk.  The  man's  name  was  John 
Hogan.  It  was  a  political  song  that  reflected,  so  it  was  thought, 
on  the  Duke.  The  tune  was,  ' '  The  Hunt  is  up."  Cf.  Chappell, 
Popular  Music,  53. 


140  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 

tains  several  poems  that  show  approaches  to  the  ballad. 
They  are  distinctly  literary,  and  more  interesting  for 
that  very  reason.  The  manuscript  once  belonged  to 
Henry  VHI\  and  dates  from  his  time.  A  large  per- 
centage of  the  pieces  are  assigned  to  authors,  many  to 
the  King  himself,  and  several  to  Cornysh,  etc.  One  by 
the  latter  is  indeed  for  a  few  stanzas  close  to  the  ballad 
manner,  but  it  soon  drifts  into  allegory.    It  reads : 

Yow  and  I  and  Amyas 

Amyas  and  you  and  I 

To  the  green  wood  must  we  go,  alas  ! 

You  and  I,  my  life,  and  Amyas. 

The  knight  knocked  at  the  castle  gate ; 
The  lady  marvelled  who  was  thereat. 

To  call  the  porter  he  would  not  blin ; 
The  lady  said  he  should  not  come  in. 

The  portress  was  a  lady  bright; 
Strangeness  that  lady  night. 

She  asked  him  what  was  his  name ; 
He  said  "Desire,  your  man,  madame." 

She  said  "Desire,  what  do  you  here?" 
He  said  "Madame,  as  your  prisoner." 

He  was  counselled  to  be  brief  a  bill, 
And  show  my  lady  his  own  will. 

"Kindness,"  said  she,  "would  it  bear," 
"And  Pity,"  said  she,  "would  be  there." 

Tlius  how  they  did  we  can  not  say ; 
We  left  them  there  and  went  our  way.1 

The  manuscript  also  contains  several  forester  and 
greenwood  pieces  and  one  late  example  of  a  pastourelle2 


1 —  I  have  quoted  this  from  Chambers  and  Sidgwick's  Early 
English  Lyrics,  p.  56.    They  normalize  the  spelling. 

2 —  Probably  the  pastourelle  survives  to  us  in  the  nursery  rime 
beginning,  " Where  are  you  going  to,  my  pretty  maid?" 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


141 


that  sounds,  in  spite  of  its  literary  tone,  as  if  it  might 
have  been  influenced  by  the  folk-song.    It  begins : 

"  I  go  to  the  medowe  to  mylke  my  cowe. ' ' 

I  am  not  at  present  aware  of  any  other  ballad-like 
material  that  would  justify  discussion  here.  Songs  and 
song-collections  there  are  in  plenty,  and  ballads  of  a 
literary  or  professional  sort,  but  nothing  like  the  Child 
ballad.  But  before  closing  this  section,  we  must  pro- 
claim, though  not  loudly,  the  advent  of  the  printed  bal- 
lad, carol,  and  chapbook,  and  make  obeisance,  since  they 
are  to  rule,  for  better  or  worse,  the  ballad  world  for 
some  time  to  come.  Popular  literature  was  not  as  early 
in  making  its  appearance  in  England  as  on  the  conti- 
nent,1 but  we  have  surviving  specimens  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  16th  century.  Printing  does  not  seem  to 
have  had  any  effect  on  ballads  except  eventually  to 
lower  their  dignity  and  tone.  Before  the  art  of  print- 
ing, ballads  had  long  been  written  in  single  sheets.  Thus 
Chappell2  tells  us  that  "Among  the  devices  at  the  coro- 
nation banquet  of  Henry  VI,  (1429,)  were,  in  the  first 
course,  a  'sotiltie'  of  St.  Edward  and  St.  Lewis,  in 
coat  armour,  holding  between  them  a  figure  like  King 
Henry,  similarly  armed,  and  standing  with  a  ballad 
under  his  feet.  In  the  second,  a  device  of  the  Emperor 
Sigismund  and  King  Henry  V,  arrayed  in  mantles  of 
garter,  and  a  figure  like  Henry  VI,  kneeling  before  them 
with  a  ballad  against  the  Lollard.3  And  in  the  third, 
one  of  Our  Lady,  sitting  with  her  child  in  her  lap,  and 

1 —  "Huth  Ballads:"  Ancient  Ballads  and  Broadsides,  1867. 
Introduction,  p.  XVI  f.  It  is  here  stated  that  France  had  an 
extensive  literature  of  a  popular  character  during  the  last  twenty 
years  of  the  15th  century. 

2 —  Popular  Music,  p.  40. 

3 —  Ritson  printed  a  ballad  against  Lollards  in  his  Ancient 
Songs,  1790,  p.  63. 


142 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


holding  a  crown  in  her  hand,  St.  George  and  St.  Denis 
kneeling  on  either  side,  presenting  to  her  King  Henry 
ivith  a  ballad  in  his  hand."  Then,  too,  an  internal  ex- 
amination shows  that  the  ballad  in  manuscripts  and 
those  early  in  print  are  not  much  different. 

Skelton  has  the  distinction, — and  the  honor,  too,  if 
there  is  any, — of  having  published  the  first  surviving 
stall-ballad.  It  is  his  "Ballade  of  the  Scottyssche 
Kynge, ' ' 1  written,  and  printed,  no  doubt,  in  the  year 
1513.  The  ballad  is  a  four-page  black-letter  affair,  with 
a  large  woodcut  at  the  beginning.  The  journalistic 
spirit  is  as  strongly  shown  in  this  ballad  as  in  any  of 
the  time  of  Elizabeth  or  James  I.  It  is  against  the 
Scotch  King  and  in  favor  of  the  English.  Mr.  Ashton 
says  of  it,  that  "indeed  Skelton  was  in  such  haste  to 
sing  his  pasan,  that  he  evidently  acted  on  the  first  (and 
incorrect)  version  of  the  victory.  It  is  probable  that 
he  did  not  know  of  the  death  of  King  James:  at  any 
rate,  he  speaks  of  him  all  through  as  living  as  a  prisoner 
at  Norham.  When  Skelton  rewrote  the  ballad,  and 
published  it  years  after,  in  'Skelton  Laureate  against 
the ,  Scottes,'  he  was  aware  of  his  anachronism,  and 
altered  it.  Skelton  evidently  considered  it  important  to 
be  early  in  the  field. ' '    It  begins : 

Kyng  Jamy  /  Jomy  your.   Joye  is  all  go 
Ye  sommnoed  our  kynge  why  dyde  ye  so 
To  you  no  thyng  it  dyde  accorde 
To  sommon  our  kyng  your  souerayne  lorde. 
A  kynge  a  somner  it  is  a  wonder 


1 — A  Ballade  of  the  Scottysshe  Kyng,  written  by  John  Skelton, 
reproduced  in  facsimile  with  an  historical  and  bibliographical  in- 
troduction by  John  Ashton,  London,  1884.  In  the  second  chapter 
of  the  introduction  Ashton  gives  the  romantic  history  of  the  piece, 
in  so  far  as  known.  In  the  Garnett  and  Gosse's  Illustrated  His- 
tory of  English  Literature,  1.  300,  there  is  a  reduced  facsimile  of 
the  first  page  of  the  ballad. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


143 


Knowe  ye  not  salte  and  suger  asonder 
In  your  somnynge  ye  were  to  malaperte 
And  your  harolde  no  thynge  experte 
Ye  thought  ye  dyde  it  full  valyauntolye 
But  not  worth  thre  skppes  of  a  pye/.  etc. 

Not  many  other  pieces  have  survived  to  us  from  the 
period.  We  need  not  repeat  what  has  been  said  about 
outlaw  material,  and  besides  that,  not  much  that  may 
be  called  balladry  of  any  sort  survives  from  prior  to 
1540.  At  that  date  there  are  a  number  of  controversial 
stall-ballads  about  Thomas  Cromwell  to  be  found  in  the 
collection  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries.1 

But  stall-ballads  must  have  been  in  print  in  consid- 
erable numbers,  long  before.  We  have  already  men- 
tioned that  the  Nutbrown  Maid  was  sold  as  a  penny 
chapbook  in  1520.  Our  source  of  information  is  a  day- 
book of  John  Dome,  an  Oxford  book-seller,  who  re- 
corded his  sales  from  day  to  day  for  that  year.2  He 
sold  many  ballads  and  Christmas  carols,  and  some  other 
literature  of  a  semi-popular  nature.  Unfortunately  for 
ballads  and  carols,  he  did  not  specify  names.  He  sold  a 
"roben  hod"  for  2d.,  which  must  have  been  the  Gest,  for 
his  usual  ballad  price  was  a  half -penny.  There  are  over 
two  score  of  entries  of  ballad  sales,  comprising  169  bal- 
lads in  all.3  They  were  bought  throughout  the  year 
except  for  two  periods,  one  from  the  beginning 
of  May  until  the  beginning  of  August,  the  other 
from  the  end  of  August  until  early  in  November ; 

1 —  Listed  and  described  in  the  Society's  Catalogue,  compiled 
by  Eobert  Lemon,  1866.  The  Society  has  a  number  of  earlier 
broadsides,  but  they  are  in  all  cases  papal  and  other  ecclesiastical 
indulgences. 

2 —  Edited  by  F.  Madan  and  published  in  Oxford  Historical 
Society  Collectanea,  Series  1,  Part  III,  1885. 

3 —  He  made  1851  entries  in  the  book,  but  the  larger  part  of 
course  are  for  large  works,  generally  in  Latin.  The  number  of 
sales  of  ballads  was  larger  than  that  of  any  other  limited  field. 


144 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


but  I  doubt  if  full  records  of  these  periods  were 
kept.  Ballads  were  sold  right  up  to  Christmas, 
generally  in  lots  of  several  at  a  time.  Once  as  many 
as  twenty-three  were  sold,  and  there  were  other  sales 
of  thirteen,  twelve,  eleven,  and  on  down.  He  did  not 
begin  to  sell  Christmas  carols  ("kesmes  corals,"  as  he 
calls  them)  until  after  September  9,  and  then  only  one  at 
a  time.  But  no  doubt,  in  their  case,  several  carols  were 
printed  on  a  sheet,  as  the  entries  seem  to  indicate,  and 
for  which  we  have  additional  proof  in  two  black-letter 
survivals  of  the  period.1  It  is  impossible  to  guess  the 
nature  of  the  ballads  sold,  though  in  one  case,  the  fact 
that  two  are  sold  together  with  the  romance  "syr 
hisemmbras"  might  indicate  that  these  at  least  were 
fairly  popular.  Of  other  popular  literature  in  the  day- 
book we  have  no  room  to  speak.  There  are  a  few  ro- 
mances,2 a  few  saints '  lives,3  lots  of  A  B  C 's,  and  many 
almanacks  and  prognosticons.  Of  course  most  of  the 
works  listed  are  of  a  more  important  nature  and  are 
in  Latin,  but  they  do  not  at  all  concern  us. 

Henry  VIII  encouraged  ballad  production,4  and  wrote 
them  himself,  so  that  the  author  of  the  Interlude  of  the 
Nature  of  the  Four  Elements  had  cause  to  complain  that 
' '  the  most  pregnant  wits  were  employed  in  compiling  bal- 
lads, while  there  were  scarcely  any  works  of  connyng. '  '5 

1 —  Two  Douce  fragments,  one  printed  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde, 
1521.  Both  reprinted  by  Professor  Fliigel  in  Anglia,  XII,  585  ff., 
together  with  Bassus,  1530,  a  song-book  for  that  part. 

2 —  Such  as  Sir  Eglamour,  Sir  Isenbras,  and  Eobert  the  Devil. 

3 —  Such  as  Life  of  St.  Katherine,  St.  Margaret,  and  St.  Eocke. 
Allied  is  Trentals  of  St.  Gregory.    Other  interesting  entries  are 

such  as  Mundus,  My  Lord  of  Misrule. 

4 —  Chappell  (Popular  Music,  1.  49)  cites  an  item  from  the 
privy  pursers  of  Henry  VII,  1495,  Nov.  27,  that  shows  ballads 
were  encouraged  in  the  latter 's  reign  also.  To  Hampton  of 
Worcester,  for  malcing  of  Ballads,  in  reward  £1.  0.  0. 

5 —  This  material,  quoted  in  Chappell,  Popular  Music  of  the 
Olden  Time,  1.  252. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY  145 


But  later,  when  ballads  were  used  against  his  policy  in 
the  Reformation,  he  tried  to  suppress  them.  In  1533  a 
proclamation  was  issued  to  suppress  "fond  books,  bal- 
lads, rimes,  and  other  lewd  treatises  in  the  English 
tongue."  In  1543  an  act  of  parliament  was  passed  to  a 
similar  end.  Later  in  the  century,  other  acts  were 
passed,  and  that  is  the  reason  why,  probably,  so  few 
ballads  of  the  early  period  have  come  down  to  us, 
though  broadside  ballads  are  a  very  perishable  form  of 
literature  under  the  best  conditions.1 


1— Chappell,  ib.,  1.  53-54. 


CHAPTER  V 


Preceding  Decade  and  Elizabeth's  Reign. 

HE  decade  just  preceding  Elizabeth's  reign  has 


left  us  considerable  material  relating  to  bal- 


-JL  ladry  in  both  manuscript  and  printed  form 
In  a  previous  chapter  we  may  have  noted  that 
from  the  press  of  Copland  there  still  remains  a 
copy  of  the  "Gest,"  with  an  appended  Robin  Hood 
play,1  as  well  as  a  copy  of  "Adam  Bell."  These  must 
have  come  from  this  time  or  not  much  later.  From  the 
same  decade,  too,  there  are  numerous  copies  of  stall- 
ballads  in  print.  If  we  use  the  word  ballad  as  people  of 
the  time  did,2  over  a  score  of  printed  specimens  have 
survived, — a  rather  large  number,  when  one  considers 
the  perishable  medium  and  the  government  hostility.3 
They  are  chiefly  to  be  found,  however,  in  one  collection, 
— that  belonging  to  the  London  Society  of  Antiquaries.4 
The  specimens  fairly  represent  the  stall  type  and  are 
well  distributed  over  the  decade.    Several,  just  like  the 

1 —  Based  on  two  ballads,  Eobin  Hood  and  the  Curtal  Friar 
(123)  and  Eobin  Hood  and  the  Potter  (121). 

2 —  That  is,  very  loosely. 

3 —  Another  edict  against  ballads  was  published  in  Mary 's  reign. 
Popular  Music,  p.  55.  Chappell  quotes  from  Collier:  "Ballads 
seem  to  have  multiplied  after  Edward  VI  came  to  the  throne;  no 
new  proclamation  was  issued  nor  statute  passed  on  the  subject, 
while  Edward  continued  to  reign;  but  in  less  than  a  month  after 
Mary  became  queen,  she  published  an  edict  against  books,  bal- 
lads, rhymes,  and  treatises,  which  she  complained  had  been  '  set 
out  by  printers  and  stationers,  of  an  evil  zeal  for  lucre  and 
covetous  of  vile  gain.'  There  is  little  doubt,  from  the  few  pieces 
remaining,  that  it  was,  in  a  considerable  degree,  effectual  for  the 
end  in  view. 

4 —  This  contains  thirty  or  more  examples.  See  the  Society  's 
Catalogue.  Mr.  Lemon's  dating  is  not  very  certain,  and  perhaps 
the  number  is  too  large. 


146 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


147 


group  of  1540,1  belong  to  a  controversial  series, — this 
time  between  Churchyard  and  Camell.  There  are  two 
or  three  merry  ballads  and  as  many  moralistic  or  dole- 
ful ones,  and  one  or  two  on  historical  events.  None  need 
discussion :  they  are  not  at  all  in  the  traditional  manner, 
though  one,  indeed,  does  have  a  contemptuous  reference 
to  Robin  Hood.2  The  number  and  variety  are  quite 
sufficient  to  show  us  that  the  stall-ballads  of  the  time 
did  differ  essentially  from  those  that  went  before  and 
after. 

The  most  interesting  new  material  survives  to  us  in 
manuscript  form.  "Otterburn"  (No.  161),  "The  Hunt- 
ing of  the  Cheviot"  (No.  162),  and  a  minstrel  piece, 
somewhat  in  the  ballad  style  of  "Modden  Field,"  are 
the  direct  contributions.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  all  deal 
with  Anglo-Scottish  warfare.  The  first  two  are  excellent 
specimens  of  genuine  balladry,  and  they  are  supposed 
to  be  concerned  with  the  same  event.  The  battle  of 
Otterburn  was  presumably  fought  on  August  19,  1388. 3 
It  was  not  much  unlike  other  border  raids,  but  for  some 
reason  it  seems  to  have  especially  interested  the  ballad- 
makers,  for  there  were  songs  of  the  battle  in  both  Eng- 
land and  Scotland  in  the  16th  century  and  probably  long 

1 —  See  chap.  4,  p.  143  (this  thesis).  Mr.  Lemon,  in  the  preface 
to  the  Society's  Catalogue,  p.  VI,  says  that  the  second  series  is 
the  last  of  the  kind  in  the  collection.  ' '  Controversialists  were 
taught  by  Martin  Marprelate  that  for  the  diffusion  of  their  coarse 
but  pungent  satire,  prose  was  an  easier  vehicle  than  verse,  and  the 
printer  a  more  certain  disseminator  than  the  minstrel,  who,  during 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  was  restrained  by  law  in  the  exercise  of  his 
Avandering  function. 

2 —  According  to  Chappell,  Popular  Music,  1.  272,  "A.  Replica- 
cion  to  Camels  Objection."  1552.  No.  23  in  the  Society's  Cata- 
logue.   It  is  by  Churchyard.    The  lines  run: 

' '  The  most  of  your  study  hath  been  of  Robyn  Hood : 
And  Bevis  of  Hampton  and  syr  Launcelot  de  Lake,  . 
Hath  taught  you,  full  oft,  your  verses  to  make." 

3—  Cf.  Child  III,  p.  292. 


148 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


anterior.1  Of  the  two  ballads  the  "Battle  of  Otter- 
burn"  is  the  older  in  story  though  not  in  grammatical 
form.  In  some  shape  Professor  Child  thinks  it  may  have 
been  current  as  early  as  1400,  though  for  that  we  have 
no  direct  or  indirect  proof.2  "The  Battle  of  Otter- 
burn"  survives  in  six  versions,  but  only  one  is  found 
in  a  manuscript  of  our  period,  the  Cotton  MS.  Cleopatra, 
C.  IV  of  about  1550.3  Except  .for  the  ballad  the  manu- 
script is  of  little  interest.4  It  is  a  miscellaneous  collec- 
tion of  prose  and  verse,  in  English  and  Latin,  and  not 
all  in  the  same  handwriting.  The  ballad  is  written 
clearly  enough,  but  in  a  hand  different  from  that  of 
the  piece  preceding,  though  probably  the  same  as  the 
one  immediately  following,  a  poem  on  the  vanity  of 

1 —  It  was  given  a  vivid  treatment  also  in  Froissart,  Berner's 
translation,  bk.  Ill,  chaps.  CXXXVII-CXLIII.  Globe  edition, 
pp.  370  ff.  The  chronicler  stated:  "Of  all  the  battles  and  en- 
eounterings  that  I  have  made  mention  of  heretofore  in  all  this 
history,  great  or  small,  this  battle  that  I  treat  of  now  was  one 
of  the  sorest  and  best  f oughten  without  cowardice  or  faint  hearts, ' 1 
p.  734.  Child'  III,  292,  note,  quotes  from  Buchanan  that  the 
slaughter  was  "far  beyond  the  usual  proportion  to  the  no's  en- 
gaged," and  that  it  probably  pleased  Froissart  because  "he 
saw  in  it  a  fight  for  fighting's  sake,  a  great  passage  to  arms  in 
which  no  bow  was  drawn,  but  each  man  fought  hand  to  hand; 
in  fact  about  the  greatest  and  bloodiest  tournament  he  had  to 
record."  No  doubt  it  was  the  same  features  that  made  the  fight 
so  popular  everywhere. 

2 —  Child  III,  293.  " .  .  .  It  would  be  against  the  nature  of 
things  that  there  should  not  have  been  a  ballad  as  early  as  1400. 
The  ballad  we  have  is  likely  to  have  been  modernized  from  such 
a  predecessor,  but  I  am  not  aware  that  there  is  anything  in  the 
text  to  confirm  such  a  supposition,  unless  one  be  pleased  to  make 
much  of  the  Wednesday  of  the  18th  stanza." 

3 —  British  Museum. 

4 —  It  is  a  very  plain,  unadorned  MS.  Several  of  the  earliest 
pieces  deal  with  York  and  Scotland,  all  in  an  ecclesiastical  way. 
No.  9  in  the  MS.,  however,  is  a  history  of  part  .of  Henry  V's 
reign.  No.  10,  names  of  mayors  and  sheriffs  of  London  from 
1419  to  1444.  No.  11,  on  St.  Dunstan.  No.  ]2,  Battle  of  Otter- 
burn.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  MS.  are  several  prophecies.  In 
the  Museum  Catalogue  of  Cotton  MS.  55  items  are  listed.  There 
are  besides  a  number  of  letters  in  the  MS.  unlisted. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


149 


worldly  affairs.  It  is  written  in  short  lines1  very  near 
to  the  left  margin,  so  near  in  fact  that  on  one  page  some 
of  the  writing  has  been  pared  off  in  binding.  There  is 
considerable  margin  at  the  right,  and  here,  as  if  to 
attract  the  eye  or  impress  the  memory,  some  of  the 
proper  names,  number  of  contestants,  etc.,  are  repeated 
in  a  similar  hand,  but  with  a  different  ink.  It  seems 
probable  that  the  ballad  was  copied  and  preserved  for 
its  historical  information.  The  author  pretends  to 
accuracy,  hinting  that  the  information  was  obtained 
from  "the  chronicle.  "2  But  in  this  the  author  seems  to 
have  been  bluffing  and  the  facts  are  not  to  be  trusted. 
The  ballad  is  distinctly  English  but  not  narrowly  parti- 
san, and  there  is  about  it  all  a  delightfully  noble  air  of 
generous  impartiality.3 

"The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot"  (No.  162),  in  the 
earlier  and  far  better  version,  is  preserved  to  us  in  a 
manuscript  of  not  much  later  date, — the  MS.  Ashmole 


1 —  No  stanzas  marked. 

2—  Battle  of  Otterburn,  Child,  No.  161,  st.  35. 

But  nyne  thowzand,  ther  was  no  moo, 

The  eronykle  wyll  not  layne; 

Forty  thowsands  of  Skottes  and  foure 

That  day  fowght  them  agayne. 
Judging  from  Froissart  we  may  say  that  the  ' '  chronykle ' '  did 
"layne. "    St.  4323  suggests  that  perhaps  the  author  was  a 
minstrel,  but  if  so  he  was  of  a  nobler  sort  than  the  Eichard 
Sheale  we  shall  soon  discuss. 

' '  Mynstrells,  playe  vp  for  your  waryson, 
And  well  quyt  it  schall  be. " 

3 —  Version  A  is  considerably  removed  from  the  simple  ballad. 
None  of  the  versions  can  be  said  to  be  simple,  strictly,  but  A  is 
hardly  as  simple  as  B  or  C.  In  A  there  is  some  literary  de- 
scription, as  sts.  14  and  15.  There  are  altogether  too  many  details. 
Stanza  17,  while  adding  to  the  heroic  qualities  of  the  piece,  is 
surely  literary.  Sts.  51  and  52  again  have  literary  qualities. 
However,  it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  the  composer  was 
courtly  or  learned.  Personally,  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  was 
some  kind  of  a  minstrel. 


150 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


48,  of  the  Bodleian  Library.  Hume  of  Godscroft1 
thought  the  ballad  "a  mere  fiction,  perhaps  to  stir  up 
virtue;  yet  a  fiction  whereof  there  is  no  mention  either 
in  Scottish  or  English  chronicle."  But  Professor  Child 
replies  that^ihe  ballad  can  scarcely  be  a  deliberate  fic- 
tion.2 The  singer,  while  uncritical,  supposed  himself  to 
be  dealing  with  facts.  Enough  correspondences  to  the 
ballad  of  ' '  Otterburn ' '  are  pointed  out  to  make  it  appear 
probable  that  it  and  Cheviot  are  founded  upon  the  same 
occurrence,  "The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot"  being  the 
later  version  of  the  two,  and  following  in  part  its  own 
tradition,  though  repeating  some  portions  of  the  older 
ballad.3  There  is  considerable  pseudo-historical  lore  in 
the  piece,4  and  fiction  and  fact  are  intermixed  bewil- 
dering] y.  The  singer,  however,  does  not  mention  the 
chronicles,  but  refers  once  to  popular  tradition  as  his 
authority.5  Prom  the  reference  to  James  as  the  Scot- 
tish king,6  it  is  clear  that  the  ballad  was  not  composed 
before  1424,  but  how  much  later,  it  is  impossible  to  say. 
The  grammatical  forms  in  the  piece  are  much  older 
than  in  ' '  The  Battle  of  Otterburn, ' '  and  the  style,  while 
vigorous,  is  crude.  In  the  form  we  have  it,  it  is  certain- 
ly considerably  older  than  the  date  of  its  manuscript. 

This  introduces  us  at  once  to  the  question  of  author- 
ship.   The  material  in  MS.  Ashmole  48  seems  to  have 


1—  Quoted  by  Child  III,  303,  304. 

2—  III,  304. 

3 —  Child  III,  304.  Professor  Child  has  noted  numerous  par- 
allel stanzas. 

4—  lb.  304. 

5_Cf.  st.  652.  Old  men  that  knowen  the  grownde  well  yenoughe 
call  it  the  battell  of  Otterburn. 

QSt.  59.    1424  was  the  year  James  I  actually  began  ruling. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


151 


been  collected  by  a  minstrel  named  Richard  Sheale.1 
Five  out  of  the  seventy-six  pieces  in  the  book,  the  min- 
strel claims  as  his  own,  and  the  "Hunting  of  the 
Cheviot"  is  one  of  them.  Sheale,  in  another  of  his 
poems,2  tells  us  he  is  a  minstrel  living  near  Tamworth, 
and  probably  a  dependent  on  the  Earl  of  Derby.  His 
wife — so  he  says — gained  money  by  going  about  to 
markets  and  fairs,  such  as  those  of  Lichfield  and  Ather- 
stone,  selling  articles  made  of  silk  and  linen,  and  other 
merchandise.3  By  these  and  other  means,  chiefly  bor- 
rowing,4 they  had  been  able  to  get  together  £60,  a  large 
sum  at  that  time,  which  was  destined  for  the  payment 
of  certain  debts.  Few  who  carried  the  harp  were  then 
suspected  of  possessing  anything  worth  stealing.  He 
therefore  felt  safe  in  carrying  the  money  with  him 
across  Dunsmore  Heath,  but  alas !  he  was  held  up  there 
and  robbed.  His  distress,  however,  was  relieved  by  his 
friends,  particularly  the  Earl  of  Derby.  Richard  Sheale 
must  therefore  have  been  as  capable  as  the  average  man 
of  his  calling,  and  his  song-book  may  be  looked  upon  as 
a  fair  example  of  the  average  minstrel's  stock  in  trade. 
Outside  of  the  "Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,"  the  collec- 


1 —  I  follow  here  Thomas  Wright,  who  has  edited  the  whole  MS., 
for  the  Eoxburghe  Club,  under  the  title  "Songs  and  Ballads,  with: 
other  short  poems,  chiefly  the  reign  of  Philip  and  Mary, "  I860.  He* 
has  an  extended  introduction. 

2 —  Poem  No.  XL VI.  Sheale  says  his  memory  after  losing  his: 
money  was  so  decayed  that  he  could  neither  sing  nor  talk.  The 
verse  shows  he  is  upset.  It  is  not  nearly  so  good  as  the  earlier 
poem  by  him.  Much  of  it  is  hard  to  scan.  Part  quoted  by 
Chappell  in  Popular  Music,  46. 

3 —  Minstrels  did  the  same  thing  down  into  the  19th  century. 

4 —  Sheale  states  that  ' '  people  did  not  believe  it  was  possible 
for  a  Minstrel  so  much  money  to  have,  and  indeed,  to  say  the 
truth,  he  never  did  have  so  much  money  of  his  own,  but  he  had 
friends  in  London  who  had  loaned  him  nine  or  ten  pound. ' '  Sheale, 
as  a  woman  would  say,  just  like  a  man  laid  his  having  a  debt  to 
his  wife,  because  she  had  had  such  a  big  trade  and  took  in  many  a 
pound. 


152 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


tion  is  not  inspiring.  It  is  written — according  to  Mr. 
Wright,  who  has  edited  the  whole  of  it — mostly  in  one 
hand,1  and  was  made  up  during  the  reign  of  Queen 
Mary  and  the  first  few  years  of  that  of  Elizabeth.2 
About  half  of  the  pieces  are  ascribed  to  authors,  most 
of  them  otherwise  unknown.  Sponar  and  Wallys  have 
the  greatest  number  assigned,  but  there  is  one  piece  by 
Lord  Vaux,  and  one,  the  earliest  surviving,  by  William 
Elderton3  of  later  ballad  fame.  One  interesting  pro- 
duction by  Wallys  begins  :4 

Our  Jockye  sale  have  our  Jenny,  hope  I, 

Our  Jockey  sale  have  our  Jenny; 

I  am  well  able  for  to  cry, 

Our  Jocky  sal  have  our  Jenny. 

It  sounds  distinctly  Scotch,  an  interesting  fact ;  and 
besides,  the  piece  has  a  description  of  a  dance  woven 
into  it.  A  good  example  of  a  minstrel  ballad  is  the 
account  of  the  fight  of  the  Darcy  brothers  upon  the 
Wests.5    But  none  of  this  material  approaches  to  the 

1 —  Professor  Skeat  has  described  the  MS.  as  a  scribble,  with  the 
■spelling  very  unsatisfactory. 

2 —  Since  the  ' '  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot ' '  is  No.  8,  in  the  collec- 
tion, it  is  to  be  presumed  it  was  written  down  near  to  the  oldest 
date  limit,  and  long  before  Sheale  was  robbed.  The  pieces  earlier 
are  mostly  assigned,  but  this  the  first  which  he  claims  as  his  own. 
The  next  piece  he  claims  is  No.  18,  and  the  next  No.  46.  No.  18 
begins : 

* '  Eemember  man  thy  f rayle  estate,  repent  thy  follies  past/ 
Befrayne  thy  mynde  from  world  woes,  for  deth  approchythe  fast. ' ' 
This  is  a  poem  very  different  from  "The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot/' 
but  not  fo  bad  as  the  later  pieces.  It  lends  a  little  color  to  his 
claim  that  after  the  robbery  his  mind  grew  feeble.  It  might  be 
possible,  therefore,  that  the  Cheviot  piece  represents  his  better 
days.  However,  the  language  does  not  show  his  own  period,  and 
the  most  that  can  be  said  for  him  is  that  he  has  taken  some  version 
and  worked  it  over. 

3 —  A  newe  ballad  entytuled,  Lenton  stuff,  for  a  lyttell  mimny 
ye  maye  have  inowgh;  To  the  tune  of  the  Crampe,  No.  LX. 

4—  No.  XXXVI,  p.  119  f.,  in  Wright's  edition. 

5—  No.  XVII,  p.  46,  Wright. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


153 


slightest  degree  the  Child  type.  And  yet  Richard 
Sheale  claimed  the  1  'Hunting  of  the  Cheviot"  as  his 
own.  Mr.  Wright,1  the  late  editor,  and  Hearne;?  the 
first  editor,  were  disposed  to  grant  the  claim,  but  it  is 
manifestly  absurd.  Sheale  may  have  modified  the 
piece,  and  have  introduced  enough  changes  to  satisfy 
his  own  conscience  but  not  to  satisfy  us.  The  facts, 
that  the  language  belongs  to  an  earlier  generation,  and 
that  there  are  traces  here  and  there  of  the  old  Judas 
meter,3  are  alone  sufficient  to  throw  Sheale 's  claims  out 
of  court.  But  he  has  besides  written  four  other  pieces  in 
the  manuscript — all  of  such  vastly  inferior  merit,  that  it 
is  almost  inconceivable  that  the  same  man  could  have 
written  also  the  "Hunting  of  the  Cheviot."  A  quota- 
tion of  just  a  few  lines  from  the  one  that  most  nearly 
approaches  our  ballad  should  suffice  to  make  that 
clear.  I  take  a  few  lines  here  and  there  from  the 
"Epithe  on  the  Countess  of  Darbe."4    It  begins: 

0  Latham,  Latham,  thowe  moste  lamente,  for  thowe 
haste  loste  a  floware. 

1 —  Introduction,  p.  VIII. 

2—  Guilielmi,  Neubrigensis  Historia,  1719,  p.  LXXXII.  Wright 
thinks  Hearne  never  saw  the  actual  MS.  The  latter 's  actual 
words  are,  "Out  of  an  old  MS.  communicated  to  me  by  a  learned 
friend. ' '  "  Communicated ' ;  most  likely  means  the  whole  MS.  was 
communicated.  See  a  quotation  in  the  Century  Dictionary  for  a 
precisely  similar  use  of  the  word.  At  least  Hearne 's  transcript 
is  very  accurate,  judging  by  Wright 's  printed  copy,  and  does  not 
look  like  second-hand  work.  Then  too  Hearne  says:  "I  find  that 
this  Eychard  Sheale  was  living  in  the  year  1588,  and  that  he  was 
the  Author  of  many  other  Poetical  Things."  Where  he  got  this 
information  about  this  date,  I  do  not  know,  but  as  to  the  other 
pieces,  he  may  have  found  them  in  this  very  MS.  The  Crab  Tree 
poem,  No.  LIU,  is  dated  at  the  beginning  1558.  Is  it  not  pos- 
sible that  Hearne 's  date  is  a  misreading,  or  a  misprint? 

3 —  The  latter  is  not  conclusive  at  all.  Indeed  there  is  a  Judas 
line  in  the  "Epithe  on  the  Countess  of  Darbe,"  soon  to  be 
quoted;  cf.  "The  noble  yerle  of  Darbe,"  p.  154.  Perhaps  also 
"For  Margaret  the  countess  of  Darbe,"  p.  155. 

4—  No.  LVI,  "The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,"  is  only  No.  VIII. 


154 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


For  Margret  the  countes  of  Darbe  in  the  yerthe  hathe 

bylte  her  bowar. 
Dethe.  the  messenger  off  Gode,  on  her  hathe  wrought 

his  wyll. 

Whom  all  creatures  muste  nedys  obay,  whethar  the  be 
good  Q£  ylle. 

Ther  ys  no  emperowre,  kynge,  nor  prince,  his  power 

can  withstande, 
But,  when  he  commys,  the  muste  obaye,  no  remedye 

can  be  fande. 

A  little  farther  on  we  have  a  number  of  separate  para- 
graphs, each  bidding  farewell.  ''Farewell,  my  good 
lord  and  husband,"  said  she,  and  much  more;  "Fare- 
well, dowghetar  Margret;"  "Farewell  Lady  Mary, 
Jane,  Lord  Stanley,  jentillmen  and  jentillwomen." 
Each  has  a  farewell  in  a  number  of  lines  in  a  way  very 
suggestive  of  the  minstrel  piece  of  Flodden  -Field. 
None  of  this  of  course  bears  the  slightest  resemblance 
to  the  "Huaating  of  the  Cheviot,"  Farther  on,  how- 
ever, the  language  seems  almost  reminiscent : 

Nowe  ys  this  noble  lady  dede,  whom  all  the  world  dyd 
love ; 

She  never  hurte  man,  woman,  nor  childe,  I  dar  well  say 
and  prove;1 

She  never  hurte  non  off  her  men,  in  worde  nor  yete  in 
dede, 

But  was  glade  allway  for  them  to  speake  such  tym  as 
the  had  nede. 

Latham  allway  bothe  nyghte  and  day  may  morn  and  mak 
great  mon,2 

For  the  losse  of  this  lady  dear,  whosse  vertus  wear  well 
knowene. 

The  noble  yerle  of  Darbe,  I  pray  Gode  save  his  lyffe, 


1 —  Such  padding  as  this  is  very  common  later  on  in  the 
' '  Epithe. ;  7  It  is  common  also  in  the  ballad  of  Otterbnrn :  cf . 
st.  82,  172,  182,  202,  322,  342,  402,  etc. 

2—  Cf.  ''Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,"  st.  58. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


155 


Hatlie  preparde  a  noble  buryall  for  his  moste  lovynge 
wyffe. 

Full  ryally  lie  hatlie  broughte  here  horn,  lyk  a  man  of 
mickle  fame.1 

This  noble  countes  of  Darbe  his  wyffe,  Margret  was 
here  nam. 

To  Armeskyrke  was  her  body  brought,  and  ther  was 

wrapped  in  clay ; 
Many  was  the  wepynge  ye2  that  ther  was  sen  that  daye. 

And  so  on  to  the  prayer  at  the  end.  This  is  just  enough 
reminiscent  to  suggest  a  parody  of  the  Child  ballad 
rather  than  another  example.  "The  Hunting  of  the 
Cheviot"  may  have  been  composed  by  a  minstrel,  but  if 
so,  he  was  a  better  man  than  Richard  Sheale.3 

We  have  mentioned  a  poem  of  "Flodden  Field"  as 
of  this  decade,4  but  it  is  clearly  a  minstrel  product  quite 
different  from  the  true  ballad  of  the  name,5  which  is 
met  with  almost  half  a  century  later.  It  was  no  doubt 
preserved  for  its  historical  subject-matter. 

In  1549  appeared  the  Complaynt  of  Scotlande, — a 
very  important  work.  Its  birthplace,  as  the  title  implies, 
was  somewhere  in  the  northern  kingdom,  perhaps  near 
the  border.   The  book  contains  the  text  of  no  ballad,  and 


1—  Cf.  ib.  632,  272. 

2—  Cf.  ib.  573. 

3 —  Professor  Child  does  not  deny  that  the  work  may  be  the 
work  of  a  minstrel ;  he  merely  denies  it  to  Sheale. 

4 —  That  is  FHigel,  "Zur  Chronologie  der  englischen  Balladen, " 
Anglia  XXI,  320,  assigns  it  that  possible  date.  He  states:  "Dies 
MS.,  ohne  datum  und  verweis  bei  Child,  ist  in  John  Stowe 's  hand: 
ca.  1550  eher  spater."  However,  it  is  to  be  said  that  MS.  Har- 
leian  367  is  a  miscellaneous  collection  and  not  all  by  any  means 
by  Stowe.  There  are  even  verses  by  Tom  Coriat  and  verses  on  the 
fall  of  Bacon.  Tn  my  own  judgment  I  should  not  say  that 
"Flodden  Field"  is  in  Stowe  "s  handwriting.  I  think  it  a  much 
coarser  hand,  though  it  is  written  neatly  enough  on  lines.  I  should 
say  it  is  a  different  hand  from  that  of  the  piece  before  and  after, 
but  T  think  it  is  in  the  same  handwriting  as  a  poem  on  Lady 
Bessie,  fol.  89.    Flodden  Field  is  in  folio  120. 

5 —  No.  168,  in  Deloney's  Jack  of  Newberry.  (1579.) 


156 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  only  things  in  it  that  concern  us  are  three  remark- 
ably long  lists  of  tales,  songs  and  dances,  that  were  sup- 
posed to  have  helped  make  up  the  entertainment  of  a 
group  of  shepherds.  There  are  several  ballad  titles  in 
the  lists,  and  that  there  are  not  more  is  probably  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  author  and  his  shepherds  are  all  very 
literary  folk  and  the  latter  are  not  by  any  means  the 
simple  peasants  they  are  supposed  to  be.  Our  section 
of  the  book  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  outline  of 
a  prose  pastoral,  and  quite  as  artificial  as  if  it  were  in 
verse.  We  are  not  therefore  at  liberty  to  deduce  from  it 
any  far-reaching  conclusions  as  to  the  prevalence  of 
ballads  at  this  time,  though  it  does  seem  fair  to  suppose 
that  ballads  of  the  Child  type  were  not  known  in  very 
large  numbers  to  people  of  the  literary  sort.  For  an 
interesting  account  of  the  genius  of  the  Gomplaynt  as 
well  as  for  the  complete  list  of  tales,  songs,  and  dances, 
the  reader  is  referred  to  Mr.  J.  A.  H.  Murray's  edition 
of  the  book  for  the  Early  English  Text  Society.1  We 
shall  have  quite  enough  to  do  here  to  treat  of  the  possible 
ballads. 

The  shepherds  narrate  first  of  all  a  vast  number  of 
tales,  of  which  forty-eight  are  mentioned  by  name. 
These  range  in  subject  from  translation  of  Ovid  to 
poems  or  tales  by  Chaucer,  Barbour,  Douglas,  and 
Dunbar,  and  from  romances  like  Ypomedon  or  Bevis 
of  Southampton  to  such  nursery-like  stories  as  "The 
taiyle  of  the  reyde  eyttyn  vitht  the  thre  heydis, "  or 
"The  tayl  of  the  giantis  that  eit  quyk  men."2  A  large 
majority  have  been  identified  by  Dr.  Furnivall,  or  his 

1 —  Extra  Series,  XVII,  1872,  1873.  There  is  an  introduction  of 
OXXIII  pp. 

2 —  The  author  of  the  Complaynt  tells  us  that  some  of  the 
material  was  in  prose  and  some  in  verse;  some  were  stories  and 
some  "flet  taylis.M 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


157 


predecessors,  and  are  foimd  in  his  edition  of  Captain 
Cox.1  Many  are  well  known.  But  in  this  first  list 
there  are  five  titles  that  have  been  thought  to  belong  to 
ballads.  Of  these,  the  first  (No.  9  in  the  list),  "On  fut, 
by  forht,  as  I  culd  found,"  is  certainly  not  of  the  Child 
type,  though  it  may  well  be  a  minstrel  or  literary  bal- 
lad. The  next  (No.  15),  "The  tail  quhon  the  kyng  of 
est  mure  land  mareit  the  kyngis  dochtir  of  vest  mure 
land,"  is  more  doubtful  to  decide  upon.  Dr.  Furni- 
vall,  following  Leyden,  asks,  "Can  this  be  the  ballad 
'King  Estmere'  (No.  60),  whose  earliest  version  we 
have  now  only  in  a  cooked  copy  by  Percy?"  "Fause 
Foodrage"  (No.  89)  has  also  been  suggested  as  the 
possible  original.  The  title  surely  seems  to  belong  to 
a  ballad,  but  not  necessarily  to  anything  that  we  have. 
Professor  Child's  comment  is:  "There  has  been  con- 
siderable speculation  as  to  what  this  tale  might  be. 
and  as  to  what  localities  Estmure  Land  and  Westmure 
Land  might  signify.  Seeing  no  clue  to  a  settlement  of 
these  questions,  I  pass  them  by,  with  the  simple  com- 
ment that  no  king  of  Estmure  Land  marries  the  king 
of  Westmure  Land's  daughter  in  this  ballad  (Fause 
Foodrage)  or  any  other."2 

No.  24,  "Arthour  knycht,  he  raid  on  nycht,  vitht 
gyltin  spur  and  candil  lycht, ' '  has  been  thought  by  Dr. 
Furnivall  to  be  another  ballad.    Leyden,  in  his  own 


1 —  Captain  Cox,  his  Ballads  and  Boohs;  or  Eobert  Lancham's 
Letter.  Ballad  Society,  1871.  The  list,  however,  as  annotated  is 
republished  in  Mr.  Murray  's  edition  of  the  Complaint,  pp.  1. 
XXIII  ff.  In  giving  credit  the  edition  of  Dr.  John  Leyden  must 
not  be  neglected.  It  belongs  to  the  earlier  days  of  ballad  scholar- 
ship, to  be  sure,  but  it  contains  for  all  that  a  very  large  quantity 
of  valuable  explanatory  and  illustrative  material,  much  of  it  not 
to  be  found  elsewhere. 

2—  Ballads,  II,  p. '296. 


158 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


excellent  edition  of  the  Complaynt,1  says  that  he  often 
heard  lines  somewhat  like  these  repeated  in  a  nursery 
tale.  While  his  quotation  is  not  very  close,  I  must 
confess  that  the  words  of  the  title  suggest  the  nursery 
more  than  anything  else.2  No.  30  in  the  list,  "Robene 
hude  and  litil  ihone,"  is  the  ballad  title  without  ques- 
tion. So  also,  I  think,  is  No.  32,  "The  tayl  of  the  zong 
tamlene, "  though  the  first  surviving  version  of  the 
ballad  does  not  go  back  much  beyond  the  19th 
century.3  Out  of  this  list  of  forty-eight  tales  there 
are,  then,  five  that  have  been  mentioned  as  possibly 
Ohild  ballads,  but  only  three  are  probably  of  the  type. 

But  our  group  of  the  shepherds,  not  having  ex- 
hausted their  desire  for  artistic  entertainment,  began 
"to  sing  sueit  melodius  sangis  of  natural  music  of  the 
antiquite.  The  foure  marmadyns  that  sang  quhen 
thetis  vas  mareit  on  month  pillion,  thai  sang  nocht  sa 
sueit  as  did  thir  scheiphyrdis  .  .  .  for  thir 
scheiphirdis  excedit  al  thir  foure  marmadyns  in 
melodius  music,  in  gude  accorddis  and  reportis  of 
dyapason  prolations,  and  dyatesseron.  "4  The  author 
remembers  thirty-eight  titles,  and  these  are  only  "sum 
of  the  sueit  sangis"  he  heard.  Not  so  many  from  this 
list  have  been  identified,  but  still  there  is  a  goodly 
number.  The  first  song  is  the  well-known  "Pastime 
with  good  company"  of  Henry  VIII.  In  the  list  there 
are  several  ballad  possibilities.  The  first,  No.  62. 
"Brume,  brume  on  hill,"  is  without  doubt  the  begin- 

1 —  Chick  my  naggie,  chick  my  naggie! 

TTow  mony  miles  to  Aberdegie? 
This  eight,  and  eight,  and  other  eight, 
Will  no  win  there  wi'  candle  light. 
These  are  all  the  lines  of  the  nursery  tale  he  can  remember. 

2 —  They  certainly  do  not  suggest  to  me  a  ballad. 

3 —  Johnson's  Museum,  1792.  Communicated  by  Kobert  Burns. 
We  shall  meet  with  Tarn  Lin  several  times  shortly. 

4—  Murray's  Edition,  p.  64.  E.  E.  T.  S.  E.  S.  XVII— XVIII 
1873. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


159 


ning  line  of  the  song-foot  quoted  in  Wager's  comedy, 
"The  longer  thou  livest,  the  more  fool  thou  art."1 
As  we  shall  soon  find,  it  may  just  possibly  belong  to 
the  ballad  of  "Broomfield  Hill"  (Child,  No.  43). 

No.  74  is  "The  battle  of  the  hayrlau, "  very  probably 
the  early  traditional  ballad  on  the  subject.  The  only 
traditional  verses  we  now  have  (Child,  No.  163)  were 
not  obtained  until  the  19th  century.  The  "ballad" 
much  current  in  the  18th  century  is  not  at  all  of  the 
traditional  type  and  may  have  been  an  out-and-out 
concoction  of  Ramsay.  No.  75  is  styled  "The  hunttis 
of  chevet, "  and  must  have  been  a  version  more  or  less 
similar  to  our  ballad  by  that  name.  No.  81  is  entitled 
"The  perssee  and  the  mongumrye  met."  This  seems 
to  be  from  a  Scotch  version  of  the  "Battle  of  Otter- 
burn"  (Child,  No.  161).  In  texts  B  and  C,  both  Scotch, 
there  is  a  line  corresponding  to  this  title,2  and  we  may 
add  that  in  B  the  main  narrative  interest  is  not  in  the 
general  battle  but  in  the  meeting  of  these  two  men. 
No.  82  reads  "That  day,  that  day,  that  gentil  day." 
It  does  not  seem  very  clear  what  should  be  the  reason 
for  laying  so  much  emphasis  upon  a  "gentil  day,"  and 
it  has  been  suggested3  that  for  "gentil"  we  should 
read  1 1  dreadful ' ' ;  thus  making  this  another  reference 
title  for  the  "Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,"  which  has  just 


1—  Published  about  1568.     See  chap.  5,  p.  172  f.  of  this- thesis. 

2 —  Cf.  Herd's  version  and  Scott's  version. 

3 —  Furnivall  credits  the  suggestion  to  Child,  and  says  the  idea 
was  accepted  by  Hales.  What  Child  really  said  is :  ' '  '  That  day, 
that  day,  that  gentil  day,'  is  in  the  Complaynt  of  Scotland  (IT, 
101),  not,  we  imagine,  as  the  title  of  a  ballad  (any  more  than 
'The  Persee  and  Mongumare  met,'  (ante,  p.  19)  but  as  a  line  by 
which  the  song  containir.g  it  might  be  recalled. ' '  This  statement 
is  in  Prof.  Child's  first  collection  of  ballads  for  the  series  of 
British  Poets.  Nothing  of  the  sort,  I  believe,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  standard  edition.  And  furthermore,  I  cannot  see  that  Child's 
words  can  be  fairly  construed  to  mean  all  that  Furnivall  suggests. 


160 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


such  a  line  at  the  end  of  the  first  fit.  But  such  an 
explanation  is  not  satisfactory.1  For,  why  this  ballad 
should  be  mentioned  again,  and  by  a  line  from  this 
particular  place,  is  no  more  clear  than  the  first  read- 
ing. It  is  just  possible  we  have  here  a  ballad  parody. 
At  least  several  of  these  songs  were  godlified  at  about 
this  time2  and  I  see  no  reason  why  some  might  not 
have  been  given  the  opposite  sort  of  treatment.  Out 
of  the  thirty-eight  pieces  that  are  named  in  this  second 
part  of  the  list,  there  are,  then,  only  three  that  one 
may  be  fairly  sure  are  ballad  titles. 

But  these  shepherds  have  not  yet  exhausted  them- 
selves, though  evidently  they  were  getting  stiff  in  the 
legs,  for  having  finished  the  songs  they  began  to  dance 
in  a  ring.  "Euyrie  aid  scheiphyrd  led  his  vyfe  be  the 
hand,  and  euyrie  3ong  scheiphird  led  hyr  quhome  he 
luffit  best.  There  vas  viij  scheiphyrdis,  and  ilk  ane  of 
them  hed  ane  syndry  instrament  to  play  to  the  laif .  the 
f yrst  hed  ane  drone .  bag  pipe,  the  nyxt  hed  ane  pipe 
maid  of  ane  bleddir  of  ane  reid,  the  thrid  playit  on  ane 
trump,  the  feyrd  on  ane  corne  pipe,  the  fyft  playit  on 
ane  pipe  maid  of  ane  gait  home,  the  sext  playt  on  ane 
reeordar,  the  seuint  plait  on  ane  fiddil,  and  the  last 
plait  on  ane  quhissil  .  .  .  i  beheld  neuyr  ane  mair 
dilectabil  recreatione.    for  fyrst  thai  began  vitht  tua 

1 —  Furnivall  does  not  believe  it  either.  He  adds  in  his  note 
that  Danney,  Ancient  Scottish  Melodies,  J 838,  runs  this,  line 
together  with  the  preceding,  but  that  would  mean  that  there  must 
have  been  still  another  ballad,  which  Furnivall  thinks  is  no  easier 
than  supposing  82  to  refer  alone  to.  some  lost  ballad.  He  men- 
tions also  that  material  reasons  also  argue  against  Danney 's  sup- 
position. 

2 —  D.  Laing,  in  his  edition  of  the  Gude  and  Godly  Ballates 
first  put  together  not  much  later,  mentions  seven  such  religious 
parodies.  The  Nut-Brown  Maid  was  godlified  also  at  about  this 
time.  Chevy  Chase  was  frequently  parodied  in  the  18th  century, 
perhaps  earlier. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


161 


bekkis  and  vitht  a  kysse.  euripides,  iuuenal,  perseus, 
horasse,  nor  none  of  the  satiric  poiettis,  quhilkis  mouit 
ther  bodeis  as  thai  hed  bene  dansand  quhen  thai  pro- 
mmcit  ther  tragiedeis,  none  of  them  kepit  moir  geoma- 
trial  mesure  nor  thir  scheiphyrdis.  ...  it  vas  ane 
eel  est  recreation  to  behald  ther  lycht  lopene,  galmonding, 
stendling  baknart  &  forduart,  dansand  base  dansis, 
pauuans,  gal^ardis,  turdions,  braulis  and  branglis, 
biiffons,  vitht  mony  vthir  lycht  dancis,  the  quhilk  ar  ouer 
prolixt  to  be  rehersit.''1  Nevertheless  the  author  sees 
fit  to  rehearse  thirty  of  the  dance  names.  A  few  of  them 
are  well  known  from  other  sources,  but  the  number  is 
proportionately  smaller  than  for  either  of  the  other 
lists.  Three  have  ballad  names  in  their  title.  No.  92  is 
"Robene  hude;"  No.  93  is  "Thorn  of  lyn,"  for  each  of 
which  we  have  already  had  a  "tayl"  in  the  first  list. 
No.  108  is  ' '  Ihonne  ermistrangis  dance. ' '  All  these  may 
well  be  the  airs  that  belonged  to  the  traditional  ballads.2 
But  it  is  clear,  after  reading  the  preliminary  list  of 
musical  instruments,  that  in  this  company  of  cultivated 
shepherds  there  would  be  nothing  so  primitive  as  danc- 
ing to  the  mere  words  of  the  song.3 

Such  are  the  titles  of  ballads  and  ballad  possibilities 
in  the  three  long  lists  of  the  Complaynt  of  Scotland- 
We  may  wish  that  the  shepherds  had  been  less  learned 
and  more  real,  but  after  all,  we  have  not,  ourselves,  much 
cause  to  complain.  This  is  much  the  richest  early  list: 
that  has  survived  to  us.  There  is  but  one  other  that  can 
compare  with  it  in  length  or  interest,  and  that  is  .the 
equally  famous  list — a  quarter  of  a  century  later — of 
Captain  Cox's  books  and  ballads.4 

1 —  Murray's  Ed.,  pp.  65-66. 

2 —  Tom  of  lyn  is  the  most  doubtful  of  the  three. 

3 —  Of  course,  the  ladies  may  have  contributed  singing. 

4 —  Cf.  Ch.  5,  179  ff.    There  is  an  interesting  list  in  the  Cockelby 


162 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Passing  on  now  to  the  next  period,  we  do  not  find 
conditions  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth — or  at  least  not  at 
the  beginning — differing  materially  from  the  periods 
preceding.  Mr.  Chappell  tells  us  that  during  this  long 
reign  ' '  music  seems  to  have  been  in  universal  cultivation, 
as  well  as  in  universal  esteem.  Not  only  was  it  a  neces- 
sary qualification  for  ladies  and  gentlemen,  but  even  the 
city  of  London  advertised  the  musical  abilities  of  boys 
educated  in  Bridewell  and  Christ's  Hospital,  as  a  mode 
of  recommending  them  as  servants,  apprentices,  or  hus- 
bandmen. .  .  .  Tinkers  sang  catches ;  milkmaids 
sang  ballads ;  carters  whistled ;  each  trade,  and  even  the 
beggars,  had  their  special  songs;  the  bass-viol  hung  in 
the  drawing-room  for  the  amusement  of  waiting  vis- 
itors ;  and  the  lute  cittern,  and  virginals,  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  waiting  customers,  were  the  necessary  furni- 
ture of  the  barber's  shop.  They  had  music  at  dinner; 
music  at  supper ;  music  at  weddings ;  music  at  funerals ; 
music  at  night ;  music  at  dawn ;  music  at  work ;  and 
music  at  play."1  But  one  is  not  to  be  misled  by  this 
description  into  the  belief  that  the  age  has  presented 
us  with  a  rich  contribution  to  balladry.  The  second 
half  of  Elizabeth's  reign  has,  indeed,  left  us  several 
traditional  ballads,  but  the  first  half  has  preserved  for 
us  never  a  one.  Perhaps  for  this,  the  very  intensity 
of  the  musical  cultivation  may  be  largely  responsible. 
During  the  reign  of  Henry  YTII  the  most  pregnant 
wits  had  been  employed  in  compiling  ballads,2  and  at 

Sow,  but  nothing  of  a  ballad  nature  is  there  mentioned.  Romances 
and  literary  poems  frequently  have  short  lists,  but  nothing  of  inter- 
est to  balladry  unless  it  be  a  reference  to  Robin  Hood  or  A.dam 
Bell.  The  Gockelbie  Sow  is  to  be  found  in  Ha2litt's  reissue  of 
Laing's  Early  Popular  Foetry  of  Scotland  and  the  Northern 
Border,  1895,  vol.  1,  179. 

1—  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  1855,  vol.  1,  p.  9S. 

2—  lb.,  p.  252. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


163 


least  one  royal  manuscript  of  the  time  of  Henry1 
shows  a  pronounced  influence  of  traditional  poetry. 
But  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth  music  seems  to  have 
developed  in  other  directions.  Mr.  Chappell  tells  us : 
"No  line  of  demarkation  could  be  more  complete  than 
that  between  the  music  of  the  great  composers  of  the 
time,  a  ad  what  may  be  termed  the  music  of  the  peo 
pie.  .  .  .  Musicians  held  ballads  in  contempt,  and 
the  great  poets  rarely  wrote  in  ballad  meter."2 

For  some  such  reason  as  we  have  suggested,  the  first 
half  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  is  of  not  much  impor- 
tance in  the  history  of  balladry.  Perhaps  the  main 
change  to  note  is  the  growing  commercialism  of  the 
stall  type, — not  that  there  had  not  been  numerous  stall- 
ballads  printed  before,  and  not  even  that  there  had  not 
been  previously  more  or  less  professional  ball  ad- writers. 
Prom  as  early  as  the  15th  century  there  is  preserved 
to  us  an  epitaph  on  a  ballad-man. 

"Here  lyeth  under  this  marbyll  ston, 
Riche  Alane,  the  ballid  man; 
Whethar  he  be  safe  or  noght, 
I  reche  never,  for  he  ne  roght. '  '3 

1—  Cf.  chap.  4,  pp.  13*9-40  of  this  thesis. 

2 —  Popular  Music,  1,  105.  He  adds :  ' '  Perhaps  the  only  instance 
of  a  tune  by  a  well-known  musician  of  that  age  having  been 
afterwards  used  as  a  ballad  tune,  is  that  of  The  Frog  Galliard,  com- 
posed by  Dowland. ' '  This  is,  of  course,  no  traditional  ballad.  In 
fact,  Chappell  uses  popular  not  in  the  Child  sense  at  all.  With 
him  it  means  current  among  the  people.  Mr.  Chappell  also  says : 
' 1  The  scholastic  music  of  that  age,  great  as  it  was,  was  so  entirely 
devoted  to  harmony  and  that  harmony  so  constructed  upon  old. 
scales  that  scarcely  anything  like  tuue  could  be  found  in  it — I 
mean  such  tune  as  the  uncultivated  ear  could  carry  away." 

In  the  whole  of  the  first  volume  of  Chappell 's  work  only  ten 
ballads  found  in  the  Child  collection  are  given  any  extended  treat- 
ment, though  there  are  many  times  that  number  of  other  songs 
treated. 

3 —  Wright  and  Halliwell,  Reliquiae  Antiquae,  1845,  vol.  II,  p. 
179.    From  MS.  Harleian,  665,  folio  294. 


164 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


But  probably  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  stall-ballads 
increased  in  number  and  in  commercial  tone.  During 
the  first  decade  the  names  of  about  forty  printers,  from 
whose  presses  were  issued  ballads,  appear  in  the  regis- 
ters of  the  Stationers'  Company,  and  other  names  of 
ballad-printers  are  met  with  which  are  not  to  be  found 
in  the  registers.1  But  unfortunately  we  have  nothing 
to  compare  with  this  list  in  the  reigns  preceding.  How- 
ever, the  number  of  printers  then  was  not  negligible. 
In  the  collection  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  though 
many  of  the  ballads  are  without  imprint,  and  a  number 
of  others  belong  to  two  rather  narrow  personal  controver- 
sies, there  are  from  1540  to  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  sixteen 
names  of  publishers  of  popular  broadsheets.2  The  grow- 
ing commercialism  of  ballads  is  perhaps  best  evinced 
by  the  number  of  broadsheets  about  monstrosities  and 
strange  news.  The  Huth  collection  contains  nearly  a 
dozen  broadsides  descriptive  of  monstrous  children  and 
pigs  and  fish,  each  generally  accompanied  with  a  pic- 
ture.   No  less  than  five  belong  to  the  year  1562.3 

A  considerable  number  of  stall-ballads  have  survived 
to  us  from  the  first  half  of  Elizabeth's  reign.  There 
are  about  a  dozen  broadsheet  songs  or  ballads  in  the 
collection  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries.4  There  are  a 
few  at  least  in  the  Pepys.5  Mr.  Chappell  mentions  as 
in  the  Roxburghe  collection  seven  printed  in  Edinburgh 


1 —  Ancient  Ballads  and  Broadsides,  1867,  introduction,  p.  XXIII. 

2 —  Cf.  the  ballads  as  listed  in  the  Society's  Catalogue. 

3 —  Ancient  Ballads  and  Broadsides,  1867,  passim,  and  Introd., 
p.  XXX. 

4 —  See  their  Catalogue,  186.6. 

5 —  G.  Daniel,  Elizabethan  Garland,  p.  X:  "A  few  were  very 
ancient  and  were  put  forth  by  the  well-beloved  Bichard  Laut,  of 
black-letter  memory,  and  that  '  courteous  dame '  the  celebrated 
Widow  Taye, ;  7 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


165 


in  1570,  shortly  before  the  date  when  every  endeavor 
was  made  to  silence  the  Scottish-ballad  muse  in  Scot- 
land.1 And  there  are  a  few  other  scattered  copies  of 
the  period.  But  by  far  the  largest  number  were 
obtained  in  a  windfall  of  the  early  19th  century.  This 
is  the  famous  Suffolk  collection,  which  seems  originally 
to  have  numbered  from  175  to  200  ballads.2  The  editor 
of  the  Tluth  part  of  the  collection3  in  his  preface  thus 
states  the  early  history:  "Between  thirty  and  forty 
years  ago  (that  is,  reckoning  from  1867)  a  person  at 
Ipswich,  well  known  in  the  neighbourhood  as  a  collector 
of  old  books  and  antique  relics,  bought  for  a  trine  of 
one  of  the  rustics  attending  the  market,  what  was 
described  by  the  vendor  as  a  'bundle  of  old  songs.' 
They  were  wrapped  up  in  a  skin  of  parchment,  and 
tied  with  whipcord.  It  may  be  questioned  whether  the 
purchaser  was  fully  aware  of  the  prize  he  had  secured, 
for  he  sold  the  entire  parcel  shortly  afterwards  to  the 
late  Mr.  George  Daniel  for  a  sum  of  money  very  much 
below  its  real  value.  This  'bundle  of  old  songs'  turned 
out  to  be  the  only  large  collection  of  printed  English 
ballads  and  broadsides  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
ever  discovered.  A  small  number  of  them  were 
allowed  by  Mr.  Daniel  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Thorpe,  the  bookseller,  in  exchange,  I  believe,  for  some 
early  editions  of  Shakespeare.  These  subsequently 
became  the  property  of  Mr.  Heber,  and  are  now  in  the 


1—  The  Roxburghe  Ballads,  vol.  1,  Introd.,  pp.  III-IV. 

2—  lb.,  p.  IX. 

3 —  The  Huth  collection  is  a  part  of  the  Suffolk  collection;  79  of 
the  ballads  were  printed  in  a  very  limited  edition  for  the 
Philobiblon  Society:  Ancient  Ballads  and  Broadsides,  published  in 
England  in  the  16th  century,  chiefly  in  the  earlier  years  of  the 
reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Reprinted  from  the  unique  original 
copies,  mostly  in  the  black-letter,  preserved  in  the  library  of  Henry 
Huth,  Esq.,  London.    Printed  by  Whittingham  and  Wilk'ins,  1867. 


166 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Christie-Miller  collection.  All  the  rest  were  collected 
into  a  folio  volume,  which  was  purchased  by  me  at  the 
dispersion  of  Mr.  Daniel's  library  in  1864." 

Mr.  Huth  has  published  seventy-nine  of  them,  chiefly 
from  the  earlier  years  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  There 
is  absolutely  nothing  in  his  collection  at  all  like  the 
Child  ballad.  I  think  there  is  not  even  anything  in  the 
ballad  quatrain.  Some  of  the  poems,  I  know,  have  long 
and  complicated  stanzas. 

Prom  the  beginning  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  the  registers 
of  the  Company  of  Stationers  may  be  used  to  throw 
considerable  light  upon  ballad  publication.1  We  do  not 
find  entries  for  all  the  surviving  ballads,2  but  we  do  for 
a  goodly  number.  The  entries  are  especially  valuable  in 
dating  ballads  without  full  imprint,3  and  in  giving  early 
dates  for  such  as  may  have  survived  only  in  late 
editions.  A  few  Child  ballads  are  entered  from  year 
to  year  as  a  sort  of  testimonial  to  us  that  they  did 
occasionally  get  into  print,  but  the  number  is  very 
limited.  All  that  have  the  least  chance  of  being  related 

1 —  Edward  Arber,  A  Transcript  of  the  Begisters  of  the  Com- 
pany of  Stationers  of  London,  1554-1640.  Privately  Printed,  1875. 
The  Company  was  incorporated  in  1556,  but  it  had  existed  as  a 
brotherhood  or  craft  very  long  before  that.  As  early  as  1403, 
there  had  been  a  similar  society  of  manuscript  producers.  There 
had  been  practical  copyright  before  the  incorporation.  See  the 
Catalogue  of  the  Collection  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  the 
ballads  before  1556. 

2 —  A  few  in  the  Collection  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  for 
instance,  No.  47.  A  Song  between  the  Queen's  Majestie  and 
Engl.  Impr.  by  William  Pickering,  1558;  Not  registered,  though 
P.  has  several  licensed  this  year  arid  afterwards.  Thus  Arber, 
1,  74,  1,  78.  Also  53.  A  Prayer  of  Supplication,  1560,  March 
23,  Impr.  by  Win.  Herf orde.  No  entry  in  Stationers Kegister  to 
correspond.  Arber  gives  him  in  a  list  of  London  publishers  (1553- 
1640)  (V,  Index,  p.  XCIV)  as  having  published  without  making 
any  entries.  And  his  date  there  is  given  as  1553?-!  559.  I  think 
there  are  others. 

3 —  They  show  some  of  Mr.  Lemon's  dates  in  his  catalogue  for 
the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  to  be  in  error.    Thus  58. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


167 


to  traditional  ballads  have  been  noted  by  Professor 
Child  at  appropriate  places  in  his  collection.  The  year 
19th  July,  1557— 9th  July,  1558,  is  the  first  for  which 
there  is  any  extended  list  of  entries.1  In  this  year  there 
are  thirty-three  items  specifically  named  ballads,  thirty- 
one  of  which,  however,  are  in  single  entry.  There  is 
besides  a  little  other  material  of  a  popular  nature. 
''Adam  Bell"  is  licensed  to  King  John  as  a  book,2  and 
in  another  entry,  the  same  man  is  licensed  to  print  "syr 
Lamwell"  and  "a  Jest  of  syr  Gawayne. "  The  most 
interesting  entry  is  the  group  of  thirty-one  ballads 
licensed  to  John  Wallye  and  Mistress  Toye.3  They  seem 
fairly  representative  of  the  taste  of  the  age.  Here  is 
the  list :  1 1  Women  be  beste  /  when  thay  be  at  Rest,  A 
mayde  that  wolde  mary  with  a  servynge  man,  I  will 
have  a  Wydow  yf  ever  I  marye,  Whan  Ragynge  love. 
The  Dave  of  the  larde  ys  at  hande,  who  lyve  so  merry 
and  make  such  sporte  /  as  they  yat  be  of  the  poorest 
sorte,  A  ballett  of  Thomalyn,  betwene  a  Ryche  farmer 
and  his  Dougther,  An  Epytaph  upon  the  Death  of 
kynge  Edwarde  ye  Sexte,  a  ballett  of  the  talke  betwene 
ij  maydes,  a  ballett  of  good  wyves,  The  mournynge  of 
Edwarde  Duke  of  Buckynham,  a  ballett  of  the  lover 
and  of  the  byrde.  Tomorrow  shalbe  my  fathers  wake, 
a  ballatt  of  a  man  that  wolde  be  vnmaryed  agayne,  of 
the  Ryche  man  and  poo.re  Lazarus,  A  ballett  of  the 
a  b  c  of  a  preste  Callad  Heugh  Stourmy  &c,  A  ballytt 
of  (  ?)  made  by  Nycholas  Baltroppe,  The  aged  mans 
a  b  c.  A  ballett  of  Wakefjdde  and  agrene,  A  ballett  of 
a  mylner,  A  ballett  god  sende  me  a  wyffe  that  will  Do 
as  I  save,  A  ballett  I  will  no  more  go  to  the  ploughe 


1—  Arber,  1,  75f. 

2—  lb.  1,  79. 

3—  lb.  1,  75. 


168 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


with  a  nother  new  ballett  annexed  to  the  same,  A 
ballett  of  admonyssion  to  leave  swerynge,  A  ballett  for 
my  solas,  A  ballett  in  wynters  Juste  Retorne,  A  ballett 
yf  ever  I  mary  I  will  mary  a  mayde,  A  ballet  then  and 
in  those  Dayes  then  I  saye  then  knaves  that  be  now 
wilbe  comme  honeste  men,  A  ballet  yt  was  a  man  in 
age  truly,  A  ballett  the  Rose  ys  frome  my  garden  gonne, 
and  in  ballettes  yf  Care  may  Cause  men  crye,  The 
sorrowes  that  Doth  increase."  In  the  list  there  are 
only  two  probable  ballads,  "Thomalyn"  and  "Wake- 
fylde  and  agrene. "  It  is  possible  that  the  account  ' 1  of 
the  Ryehe  man  and  poore  Lazarus"  is  another,  but  it  is 
quite  as  likely  that  it  is  a  special  stall-ballad  pro- 
duction.1 

The  next  year  not  many  ballads  are  entered  as 
licensed.  A  single  lot  of  seven  make  up  most  of  the 
number.2  Owyn  Rogers  is  fined  two  or  three  times 
for  printing  without  license,  and  once  XX  d.  "for 
pryntinge  of  halfe  a  Reame  of  ballettes  of  another 
mans  Copye  by  waye  of  Desceate.  "3  In  the  same  year 
one  or  two  other  ballad  publishers  are  fined.4  It  is  not 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  these  w^ere  the  only  ballads 
published  during  the  year.  Nor  are  there  entered  many 
ballads  for  license  the  next  year,  1559-1560,  and 
perhaps  no  fines  for  lack  of  license.  But  there  is  a 
statement  at  the  close  of  the.  year  that  shows  it  may 
have  been  only  the  exceptional  ballad — one  that  for 
some  reason  had  to  pay  a  fee — that  was  regularly  en- 

1 —  There  are  several  stall-ballads  about  Bible  stories  to  be  found 
in  the  Koxburghe  collection.  Compare  Elderton's  ballad  "The 
Constancy  of  Susanna,"  vol.  1,  p.  190,  Chappell,  and  "The  Story 
of  David  and  Berseba, ' ;  1,  p.  270,  Chappell. 

2—  lb.,  1,  96.    To  William  Eedle  and  Eychard  Laute. 

3—  lb.,  1,  101. 

4 —  ' '  John  kynge  ys  f yned  for  that  he  Bed  prynte  the  nutbrowne 
mayde  without  lycense,  iis  vj  d. "    Arber,  1,  93. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


169 


tered  in  the  registers.  The  statement  was  first  pub- 
lished in  Mr.  Collier's  Extracts:1 

"The  nombre  of  all  suche  Copyes  [of  books]  as  was 
lefte  in  the  Cubborde  in  our  Counsell  chambre  at  the 
compte  gyven  by  Mr.  Loble  and  Mr.  Duxsell  as  apereth 
in  the  whyte  boke  for  that  yere  anno  1560  [14  July, 
1559-5  July,  1560]    .    .    .  XLIIII." 

"Item  in  ballets  the  same  Daye  .  .  .  vij  iiijxx 
and  xvj."  That  is,  in  this  accounting  there  had  ap- 
peared 796  ballads  and  44  oooks.  Unfortunately  the 
"white  book"  has  been  lost,  but  it  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose  that  the  796  means  that  many  ballad  titles  or 
imprints.2  Still  the  number  gives  us  every  reason  to 
suppose  there  were  many  ballads  published  during  the 
year.  Perhaps,  also,  not  every  ballad  printer  was 
made  to  register  his  wares,  for  in  Arber's  list  of  Lon- 
don publishers  from  1553  to  16403  there  are  over 
thirty  names  of  men  who,  before  1580,  avowedly  pub- 
lished in  the  metropolis  printed  matter  without 
registering  the  same  at  the  Hall.4 

Of  other  ballad  entries  up  to  1580,  there  are  not 
many  that  need  concern  us.  In  the  year  1560-61  John 
Sampson  is  licensed  to  print  "a  ballett  of  The  Lady 
Jane"  and  another  of  "The  Lamentation  of  quene 
Jane."5  Perhaps  one  or  both  may  have  to  do  with  the 
ballad  in  the  Child  collection,  "The  Death  of  Queen 


1 —  Extracts  from  the  Eegisters  of  the  Stationers'  Company, 
Shakespeare  Society,  1,  28. 

2—  Cf.  Arber,  1,  143. 

3 —  Transcript,  vol.  V,  p.  lxxxi  ff.  I  did  the  counting. 

4 —  Many  of  these  were  foreigners.  It  is  also  to  be  noted  for 
broadsides  that  there  were  numerous  pieces  published  without  im- 
print.    Probably  many  of  these  were  unlicensed. 

5—  Arber,  1,  151,  152. 


170 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Jane"  (No.  170). 1  In  1562-3  there  is  a  ballad  of 
"Robyn  Hod"  licensed  to  John  Aide.2  "The  best  one 
would  expect  of  this  would  be  a  better  copy  of  some 
later  broadside,"  is  Professor  Child's  comment.3  In 
1564-5  Owyn  Rogers  is  licensed  to  print  "a  ballet 
intituled  The  Blende  Harper,"  and  the  next  year  a 
license  is  given  to  Lucas  Haryson  to  print  "a  ballet 
intituled  The  Blynde  Harpers,  with  the  Answere."4  It 
would  be  a  hazardous  conjecture  even  to  identify  the 
first  of  the  two  entries  with  the  Scotch  "Lochmaben 
Harper"  (Child  No.  192), 5  and  the  second  seems  out  of 
the  question.  There  were  too  many  blind  harpers  in 
London.6  A  "book"  entitled  "The  story  of  Kynge 
Henry  the  iiijth  and  the  Tanner  of  Tamowthe"  was 
licensed  to  William  Greffeth  late  in  1564.7  It  was  no 
doubt  one  of  the  numerous  king  and  peasant  stories  of 
which  "King  Edward  IV.  and  the  Tanner  of  Tarn- 
worth"  (No.  273)  is  the  ballad  representative.  A 
similar  story,  "A  merry  Songe  of  a  Kinge  and  a 
Shepherd,"  was  licensed  to  Richard  Jones,  Sept.  25, 
1578.8  The  northern  rebellion  of  1569  called  forth  a 
great  number  of  stall-ballads.  Almost  a  score  are  en- 
tered in  the  registers  to  various  printers.9  A  few  of 
the  pieces  have  survived.    There  is  one,  for  instance,  by 

1 —  However,  in  1562-3  John  Tysdale  has  the  license  to  print  a 
"lamentation  of  the  ladye  Jane  made  sayinge  my  fathers  procla- 
mation now  I  must  lose  my  hede."    Arber,  1,  209. 

2—  Arber,  1,  204. 

3—  Arber,  1,  260. 

4—  Arber,  1,  294. 

5 —  Many  Englishmen  might  consider  it  offensive,  it  being  told 
as  a  joke  on  one  of  their  late  kings. 

6—  Arber,  1,  264. 

7—  Arber,  2,  338. 

8—  Arber,  1,  404-6,  407-9,  413-15. 

9 —  No.  60,  in  their  Catalogue,  p.  20:  "Newes  from  Northum- 
berland." All  that  I  have  seen  of  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  few  lines 
there  quoted. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


171 


William  Elderton  still  preserved  in  the  collection  of 
the  Society  of  Antiquaries.1  It  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  it  has  any  likeness  to  the  Child  type.  "We  do 
have  one  Child  representative  of  this  rebellion.  It  is 
the  Percy  MS.2  ballad  of  the  "Rising  in  the  North" 
(No.  175).  While  it  is  the  work  of  a  minstrel,  it  is  the 
work  of  a  minstrel  well  acquainted  with  other  ballads 
of  the  Child  type.   It  uses  that  as  a  model. 

The  William  Elderton,  just  mentioned,  is  the  repre- 
sentative "  ballad- writer "  Of  the  period.  Several  of 
his  ballads  have  survived,3  as  well  as  a  few  contem- 
porary allusions,  generally  derogatory.4  The  Sta- 
tioners' Register  contains  a  document  concerning  him 
in  1570. 5  It  concerns  one  of  his  ballads  entitled 
Doctor  Stories  Stumblinge  into  Englonde.  The  Queen's 
ministers  found  that  while  "the  substance  thereof 
seemede  to  cause  therewith  a  certain  zeale  and  good 
meaninge  towardes  the  ffutherance  of  trewe  Religion 
and  defaceing  of  Papestrye,  yet  did  they  find  that 
some  partes  of  the  same  did  particularlye  touche  by 
name  certeyne  psonages  of  honour   and  reputation 


1 —  Chappell,  Popular  Music,  v.  1,  p.  108 :  "As  minstrelsy  declined, 
the  harp  became  the  common  resource  of  the  blind,  and  towards  the 
end  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  harpers  were  proverbially  blind: — ■ 
'If  thou 'It  not  have  her  looked  on  by  thy  guests,  Bid  none  but 
harpers  henceforth  to  thy  feasts.'  "  Gilpins,  Skialetheia,  1598: 
' '  There  were  many  ballads  about  blind  harpers,  and  many  tricks 
were  played  upon  them,  such  as  a  rogue  engaging  a  harper  to 
perform  at  a  tavern,  and  stealing  the  plate,  'while  the  unseeing 
harper  plays  on. '  ' ' 

2 —  Of  the  next  century,  of  course. 

3—  Several  are  mentioned  in  the  life  in  the  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography.  I  do  not  know  that  the  list  aims  to  be  com- 
plete. 

4 —  Compare  the  passage  quoted  in  Chappell  ?s  Popular  Music,  I, 
107.  Also  the  satirical  ballad  by  William  Fulwood  to  be  found 
in  Collier's  collection  of  "Old  Ballads,"  for  the  Percy  Society,  1. 
His  red  nose  and  tippling  propensities  are  generally  emphasized. 

5 —  Arber,  V,  p.  lxxvi. 


172 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


tending  also  to  the  descreditt  of  some  prences  with 
whom  the  Queen's  Matie  standeth  presently  in  terms 
of  amytie. "  The  ballad  was  therefore  to  be  withdrawn 
and  copies  already  dispersed  to  be  diligently  called  in. 
It  was  probably  not  the  only  experience  Elderton  had 
of  the  sort. 

In  1570-71  William  Pekerynge  was  licensed  to  print 
"a  ballett,  Dyves  and  Lazarus/'1  and  the  same  ballad 
is  licensed  to  H.  Carre  in  1580. 2  This  may  possibly  be 
a  version  of  the  traditional  ballad  of  the  name,  but 
there  is  no  certainty.  We  may,  however,  be  practi- 
cally sure  of  another  entry  for  the  year  1580.  On 
Oct.  6,  Master  Walley  got  a  license  for  "The  Lord  of 
Lome  and  the  false  Steward"  with  two  other  ballads. 
The  first  is  without  doubt  the  Child  ballad  of  the 
name  (No.  271).  With  this  we  exhaust  the  lists  of  the 
Stationers'  Company  of  all  possible  Child  ballad  entries 
down  through  the  year  1580.  Our  harvest  has  not 
been  a  very  rich  one.  It  is,  however,  thoroughly 
characteristic  of  all  gleanings  saved  from  the  first 
half  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth. 

About  1568  we  have  some  so-called  ballad  material 
quoted  in  a  play,  but  it  is  not  much  more  satisfactory. 
In  W.  Wager's  "very  mery  and  pythie  commedie. 
called  The  longer  thou  livest,  the  more  foole  thou 
art,"3  Moros  is  the  fool  who  well  justifies  the  play's 
title.    At  the  beginning  he  enters,  "counterfaiting  a 

1—  Arber  I,  436. 

2—  lb.  II,  376. 

3 —  A  very  mery  and  Pythie  Commedie,  called  The  longer  thou 
livest,  the  more  foole  thou  art.  A  myrrour  very  necessarie  for 
youth,  and  especially  for  such  as  are  like  to  come  to  dignitie  and 
promotion :  As  it  maye  well  appeare  in  the  Matter  folowvnge. 
Newly  compiled  by  W.  Wager.  Imprinted  at  London,  by  Wyllyam 
How  for  Richarde  Johnes:  and  are  to  be  solde  at  his  shop  under  the 
Lotterie  house, — n.  d.  Bl.  L.  Brit.  Mus. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


173 


vaine  gesture  and  a  foolish  countenance,  Synging  the 
foote  of  many  Songes,  as  fooles  were  wont."  Here  in 
a  condensed  form  is  what  he  sang : 

Brome,  Brome  on  hill, 

The  gentle  Brome  on  Hive  hill : 

Brome,  Brome  on  Hive  hill, 
The  gentle  Brome  on  Hive  hill, 

The  Brome  standes  on  Hive  hill  a. 

Robin,  lend  to  me  thy  Bowe,  thy  Bowe, 
Robin  the  bow,  Robin  lende  to  me  thy  bow  a : 

There  was  a  Mayde  come  out  of  Kent, 
Deintie  love,  deintie  love    .    .  . 
Fayre,  propre,  small  and  gent, 
As  euer  upon  the  grounde  went, 
For  so  should  it  be. 

By  a  banke  as  I  lay,  I  lay, 
Musinge  on  things  past,  hey  how. 

Tom  a  lin  and  his  wife,  and  his  wiues  mother, 
They  went  over  a  bridge  all  three  together; 
The  bridge  was  broken,  and  they  fell  in : 
"The  Deuil  go  with  all!  "  quoth  Tom  a  lin. 

Martin  Swart  and  his  man,  sodledum,  sodledum. . . 

Come  ouer  the  Boorne,  Bessie .  . . 

The  White  Doue  sat  on  the  Castell  wall, 

I  bend  my  Bow,  and  shoote  her  I  shall, 

I  put  hir  in  my  Gloue,  both  fethers  and  all. 

I  layd  my  Bridle  upon  the  shelf e ; 

If  you  will  any  more,  sing  it  your  self e. 

Discipline     0  lorde,  are  you  not  ashamed. 

Thus  vainly  the  time  to  spende  ? 


174 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Moros:    I  have  twentie  mo  songs  yet, — 
A  fond  woman  to  my  Mother. 
As  I  war  wont  in  her  lappe  to  sit, 
She  taught  me  these  and  many  other, 
,  I  can  sing — song  of  Robin  Redbrest, 
And  my  litle  pretie  Nightingale, 
There  dwelleth  a  ioily  Foster  here  by 
west ; 

Also,  I  come  to  drink  som  of  your 

Christmas  ale. 
When  I  walke  by  myselfe  alone, 
It  doth  me  good  my  songs  to  render. 
Such,  pretie  thinges  would  soone  be  gon. 
If  I  should  not  sometime  them  remem- 

bre. 

It  is  doubtful,  however,  if  this  be  not  vain  boasting,1 
for  later  he  and  three  of  his  companions,  Idleness,  In- 
continencie,  and  Wrath  (it  may  be  remarked  in  pass- 
ing that  his  servants  are  Pastime,  Pleasure,  and  Robin- 
hoode)2  try  seriously  to  sing  a  song  with  the  following 
results : 

Moros:    Before  you  go  let  us  have  a  song, 

I  can  retche  up  to  sing  sol  fa  and  past. 

Idleness:    Thou  hast  songes  good  stoare  sing  one. 
And  we  three  the  foote  will  beare. 

Moros:    Let  me  stody  it  will  come  anone, 
Pepe  la,  la,  la,  it  is  to  hye  there, 
So,  ho,  ho,  and  that  is  to  lowe, 
Soil,  soil,  fa,  fa,  and  that  is  to  flatte, 
Re,  re,  re,  by  and  by  you  shall  knowe, 
My,  my,  my,  how  saye  you  to  that. 


1 —  Idleness  says  of  Moros: 

Tell  him  one  thing  twenty  times, 

And  he  will  forget  it  by  and  by  God  wot, 

Yet  can  he  sing  songes  and  make  rymes. 

2 —  On  being  introduced  to  Wrath  as  "Master  manhode"  Moros 
by  mistake  calls  him  Master  Eobinhode.  This  misremembering  of 
names  is  a  stock  comedy  element  in  the  play. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


175 


Idleness:    Care  not  for  the  true  but  what  is  thy 
song. 

No  remedie  thou  must  first  beginne. 

Incontinence :    I  will  be  gone  if  you  tarry  long, 

Whan  we  knowe-how  we  shall  come  in. 

M or os:    I  have  a  prety  tytmouse, 
Come  picking  on  my  to, 
All  iiii  the  same:    Gossuppe  with  you  I  purpose, 
To  drinke  before  I  go. 

Moros:    Litle  pretty  nightingale 

Among  the  braunches  greene, 

All  iiii  the  same:   Geve  us  of  your  Christmasse  ale, 
In  the  honour  of  saint  Steuen. 

Moros:    Robyn  readbrest  with  his  noates, 
Singing  a  lofte  in  the  quere, 
All  iiii  the  same :    Warmth  to  get  you  f rese  coates, 
For  winter  then  draweth  nere. 

Moros:    My  brigle  lieth  on  the  shelf e, 
Yf  you  will  have  any  more, 
Vouchsafe  to  sing  it  your  selfe, 
For  here  you  haue  all  my  stoare. 

Wrath :    A  song  much  like  thauthour  of  the  same, 
It  hangeth  together  like  fethers  in 
the  winde. 

Moros:    This  song  learned  I  of  my  dame, 

When  she  taught  me  mustardsede  to 
grinde. 

The  first  and  second  attempts  of  Moros  are  enough 
alike  in  their  fragmentary  character  to  justify  a  sus- 
picion against  Moros'  claim  to  a  large  song  repertory.1 

1 — It  will  be  noted  that  of  his  twenty  songs,  he  elaborates 
' '  Bobyn  Eeadbrest, ' '  and  ' '  the  litle  pretty  nightingale, ' '  and  per- 
haps, {<I  come  to  drink  some  of  your  Christmasse  ale."   Also  the 

two  medleys  end  in  practically  the  same  way. 


176 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


At  least  the  author  of  the  piece  had  no  intention  of 
being  complimentary  either  to  Moros  or  to  song-lore. 
Several  of  the  fragments  seem  to  belong  to  very  popu- 
lar songs.  Some  have  had  a  long  currency.  Professor 
Child  quotes  Mr.  Halliwell-Phillips  as  saying  that  there 
was  still1  an  immense  variety  of  songs  and  catches 
relating  to  Tommy  Lin  known  throughout  the  country. 
And  Martin  Swart  was  referred  to  by  Skelton.2 
"Brume,  brume,  on  hill"  was  mentioned  also  in  The 
Complaynt  of  S'cotlande,3  and  we  shall  find  it  mentioned 
again  in  the  list  of  Captain  Cox's  ballads.4  But  there 
is  very  little  probability  that  any  of  the  pieces  known 
by  Moros  were  ballads  of  the  Child  type.  Professor 
Child  himself  has  denied  any  connection  for  the  Tom 
a  lin,5  and  he  has  practically  done  that  for  the  "Brome. 
Brome,  on  hill."6    For  the  latter  it  is  to  be  noted  that 


1 —  That  is  in  the  19th  century.    Compare  also  the  following: 

Byran  O'Lin,  and  his  wife,  and  wife's  mother, 

All  went  over  a  bridge  together. 

The  bridge  was  loose,  and  they  all  tumbled  in, 

' '  What  a  precious  concern !  ' '  cried  Byran  O  'Lin. 

— Halliwell  Nursery  Ehymes,  Percy  Society. 
I  found  the  next  in  a  Mother  Goose  book  published  in  Boston,  1876. 

The  two  gray  Kits,  /  And  the  gray  Kit's  mother,  /  All 
went  over  /  The  bridge  together.  /  The  bridge  broke  down,  /  They 
all  fell  in,  /  May  the  rats  go  with  you,  /  Says  Tom  Bolin. 

— Mother  Goose's  Pocket  of  Pleasure. 

2 —  Skelton,  With  hey,  troly  lo,  whip  here  Jak  /  Alumbek  sodyl- 
dum,  syllorym  ben, 

Curiously  he  can  both  counter  and  knak,  /  Of  Morton 
Swart  and  all  his  merry  men. 

Quoted  by  Dr.  Furnivall  in  a  note,  Captain  Cox,  Introduction, 
p.  CXXVII  f. 

3—  Cf.  chapter  5,  p.  160,  note  2. 

4—  Cf.  chapt.  5,  p.  180. 

5 —  ' '  There  is  no  connection  between  the  song  and  the  ballad 
beyond  the  name:  the  song  is  no  parody,  no  burlesque,  of  the 
ballad  as  it  has  been  called."  Child,  1,  340. 

6 —  In  Scott 's  version  there  is  a  reading  in  one  place  of  Hive 
hill  (A8).  "A  more  sanguine  antiquary  than  the  editor,"  says 
Scott,  "  might  perhaps  endeavor  to  identify  this  poem,  which  is  of 
undoubted  antiquity,  with  the  'Broom,  broom  on  hill'  mentioned 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


177 


none  of  the  six  versions  of  the  "Broomfield  Hill"  (No. 
43),  with  which  it  has  been  identified,  have  preserved 
any  refrain,  though  the  ballad  was  still  afloat  through 
the  first  half  of  the  19th  century.  Of  course  it  would 
only  be  a  refrain  that  Moros'  fragment  could  represent. 

We  have  not  space  for  more  than  a  reference  to 
Scotch  balladry  of  the  time.  There  seems  to  have  been 
considerable  interchange  of  material  between  England 
and  her'northern  sister,  as  is  shown  by  many  a  ballad 
and  song  collections  and  lists.?-  But,  unless  it  should  be 
the  early  copy  of  the  "Gest  of  Robin  Hood,"2  there  is 
no  specimen  of  a  Child  ballad  that  has  come  to  us  from 
a  Scotch  source,  either  up  to  this  time  or  until  much 
later.  In  1567  was  published  the  first  surviving  edition 
of  the  "Gude  and  Godlie  Ballatis."3  It  is  made  up  in 
part  . of  religious  songs  made  over  from  worldly  popular 
songs,  but  there  is  nothing  in  it  to  show  any  influence  of 
the  Child  type  of  ballad.  In  1568  George  Bannatyne 
got  together  his  famous  manuscript  collection  of  Scotch 

.  .  .  as  forming  part  of  Captain  Cox's  collection.7'  Scott, 
Minstrelsy,  v.  330.-33.  Prof.  Child  comments:  "  Assuredly  'Broom, 
broom  on  hill,'  if  that  were  all,  would  justify  no  such  identifica- 
tion, but  the  occurrence  of  Hive  hill  both  in  the  burden  which 
Moros  sings  and  in  the  8th  stanza  of  Scott's  ballad  (A),  is  a  cir- 
cumstance that  would  embolden  a  very  cautious  antiquary,  if  he 
had  received  Hive  hill  from  tradition  and  was  therefore  unaffected 
by  a  suspicion  that  this  locality  had  been  introduced  by  an  editor 
from  the  old  song."  1,  p.  390. 


1 —  For  instance,  the  Complaynt  of  Scotland  has  at  least  seven 
songs  that  are  either  English,  or  common  to  England  and  Scotland ; 
cf.  Leyden,  Complaynt,  p.  277.  Two  are  "Pastance  with  gude 
companye, ' '  and  ' '  Hunt  is-up. "  • '  The  Captain  Car, ' '  that  we  shall 
come  to  in  the  next  chapter,  is  an  English  ballad  on  a  Scotch  sub- 
ject. In  the  Huth  collection  there  are  two  Scotch  broadsides  by 
Sempill.    Other  examples  might  be  noted. 

2 —  A  is  bound  up  with  ten  other  pieces  in  a  volume  in  the  Advo- 
cates'  Library,  Edinburgh.  The  best  qualified  judges  are  not 
agreed  as  to  the  typographical  origin. 

3—  The  best  edition  is  that  of  A.  P.  Mitchell  for  the  Scottish 
Text  Society,  Edinburgh,  1897. 


178 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


poetry.1  It  is  an  invaluable  storehouse  and  he  called  it 
a  "Ballet-buik, "  but  it  is  learned  and  literary  and 
there  is  nothing  of  the  purely  traditional  style  in  it. 
In  August,  1579, 2  two  poets  of  Edinburgh,  (William 
Turnbull,  Schoolmaster,  and  William  Scott,  notar,)  were 
hanged  for  satirical  ballads,3  and  in  October  of  the 
same  year  the  Estates  passed  an  Act  to  suppress  bards; 
minstrels,  and  singers,  or  "sangsters.  "4  This  act 
seems  not  to  have  been  repealed,  and  it  must  have  been 
fairly  successful  in  putting  an  end  to  stall-balladry  in 
Scotland.  Very  few  specimens  in  broadsheet  form 
have  come  down  to  us. 

In  England  down  to  1580  there  is  but  one  other  im- 


1 —  Edited  by  Daniel  Laing,  Edinburgh,  1824.  It  is  being  re- 
edited  by  the  Hunter ian  Club. 

2 —  In  1574  there  had  been  an  edict  for  licensing  ballads:  "The 
press  was  not  likely  to  be  a  friend  to  the  Kegent,  and  the  Eegent, 
therefore,  was  not  a  friend  to  the  press.  At  this  date  he  induced 
the  Privy  Council  to  issue  an  edict  that  none  tak  upon  hand  to 
emprint  or  sell  whatsoever  book,  ballet,  or  other  work  without  ys 
being  examined  and  licensed  under  pain  of  death  and  confisca- 
tion of  Goods. "    Chambers'  Domestic  Annals  of  Scotland,  1,  94. 

3 —  Chambers'  Domestic  Annals,  1,  126:  "  'Twa  poets  of  Edin- 
burgh, remarking  some  of  his  [Morton's]  sinistrous  dealing,  did 
publish  the  same  to  the  people  by  a  famous  libel  written  against 
him;  and  Morton  hearing  of  this,  causit  the  men  to  be  brought  to 
Stirling,  where  they  were  convicted  of  slandering  one  of  the  King's 
councillors,  and  were  there  baith  hangit.  The  names  .  .  .  They 
were  baith  well  beloved  of  the  common  people  for  their  common 
offices.'  IT.  K.  J.— 'Which  was  thought  a  precedent,  never  one 
being  hanged  for  the  like  before;  and  in  the  meantime,  at  the 
scattering  of  the  people,  there  were  ten  or  twelve  despiteful  letters 
and  infamous  libels  in  prose,  found,  as  if  they  had  been  lost  among 
the  people,  tending  to  the  reproach  of  the  Earl  of  Morton  and  his 
predecessors. '  Mag.  E. — At  the  fall  of  Morton  less  than  two  years 
after,  wheu  he  was  taken  prisoner  and  conducted  to  Edinburgh 
Castle — '  as  he  past  the  Butter  Frou,  a  woman  who  had  her  husband 
put  to  death  at  Stirling  for  a  ballad  entitled  I) of  and  dow 
nothing  (as  much  as  to  say:  "Sport  and  be  at  your  ease")* 
sitting  down  on  her  bare  knees,  poured  out  many  imprecations 
upon  him.'  " 

4 —  Chappell,  Eoxburghe  Ballads,  1.  His  authority  is  Chambers' 
Domestic  Annals. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


179 


portant  contribution  to  the  subject  of  balladry,  and 
that  is  the  list  of  ballads  and  books  of  Captain  Cox,: 
the  picturesque  and  ardent  lover  of  old  story  and  song. 
The  list  is  found  in  an  extremely  interesting  letter  by 
one  Robert  Laneham,  a  London  mercer,  to  a  certain 
Master  Humfrey  Martin.  Laneham  describes  the  visit 
of  Queen  Elizabeth  to  her  favorite,  and  Laneham 's 
patron,  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  at  Kenilworth  Castle  in 
1575:  "The  castle  itself,  its  grounds  and  appointments, 
the  pageants  presented  before  the  Queen,  as  well  as  an 
ancient  minstrel  with  a  solemn  song,2  prepared  for  her 
but  not  shown  to  her,  are  all  described  in  this  letter 
with  great  gusto."  It  is  in  this  same  sprightly  narra- 
tive that  we  have  the  list  of  Captain  Cox's  books  and 
ballads.  '6 

"But  beware,  keep  bak, "  says  Laneham,  "make  room 
noow,  heer  they  cum!  And  fyrst,  Captain  Cox,  an  od 
man  I  promiz  yoo :  by  profession  a  Mason,  and  that 
right  skilfull,  very  cunning  in  fens,  and  hardy  az 
Gawin ;  for  his  tonsword  hangs  at  his  tablz  eend :  great 
ouersight  hath  he  in  matters  of  storie :  For,  az  for 
King  Arthurz  book,  Hunn  of  Burdeaus,  the  foour  suns 
of  Aymon,  Bevys  of  Hampton,  the  squyre  of  lo  degree, 
the  knight  of  courtesy  and  the  Lady  Faguell,  Frederik 
of  Gene,  Syr  Eglamoour,  Syr  Tryamoour,  Syr  Lamwell, 
Syr  Isenbras,  Syr  Gawyn,  Olyver  of  the  Castl,  Lucres 
and  Eurialus,  Virgils  life,  the  castle  of  Ladiez,  the  wid- 

1 —  Laneham 's  letter  has  been  reprinted  and  fully  edited  by  Dr. 
Furnivall  for  the  Ballad  Society,  1871. 

2 —  It  is  "K.  Byence 's  Challenge ' 1  found  approximately  in 
Percy's  Eeliques,  Wheatley's  ed.,  London,  1891,  III,  p.  25. 

3 —  Quoted  by  Furnivall  at  pp.  XII  f.  of  his  edition,  and  in  his 
text  at  pp.  28  f.  Captain  Cox  and  Laneham 's  letter  were  re- 
membered locally  long  after  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  "The 
Masque  of  Owls, "  of  B.  Jonson,  was  presented  at  Kenilworth 
by  the  Ghost  of  Captain  Cox  mounted  on  his  hobby-torse,  1626. 
Laneham 's  letter  is  echoed  in  the  piece  many  times. 


180 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ow  Edyth,  the  King  and  the  Tanner,  Frier  Rons,  Howle- 
glas,  Gartantua,  Robinhood,  Adambel  Clim,  etc.,  The 
Churl  and  the  Bard,  The  Seaven  wise  blasters,  The 
wife  lapt  in  Morels  skin,  The  sak  full  of  nuez,  The 
seargeaunt  that  became  a  Fryar,  Skogan,  Collyn  clooutr 
The  Fryer  and  the  boy,  Elynor  Rumraing,  The  Nut- 
brooun  maid,  with  many  moe  then  I  rehearz  heere :  I 
beleeve  hee  have  them  all  at  hiz  fingers  endz. 

"Then  in  philosophy  both  morall  and  naturall,  I 
think  he  be  az  naturally  overseen :  beside  poetrie  and 
Astronomy,  and  oother  hid  sciencez,  as  I  may  gesse 
by  the  omberty  of  hiz  books :  whear-of  part  az  I  remem- 
ber, The  Sheperdz  kalender,  The  Ship  of  Foolz,  Danielz 
dreamz,  The  booke  of  Fortune,  Stanz  puer  ad  mensam, 
The  hy  wey  to  the  Spitl-house,  Julian  of  Brainfords 
testament,  The  castle  of  Love,  The  booget  of  Demaunds, 
The  hundred  Mery  talez,  The  book  of  Riddels,  The 
Seauen  sororz  of  wemen,  The  prooud  wives  Pater  nos- 
ter,  The  Chapman  of  a  peniworth  of  "Wit.  Beside  hiz 
auncient  playz  (four  mentioned),  And  heerwith  Doctor 
Boords  breviary  of  health.  What  shoold  I  rehearz 
heer,  what  a  bunch  of  ballets  &  songs,  all  auncient:  az 
Broom  broom  on  hill,  So  wo  iz  me  begon,  troly  lo,  Over 
a  whinny  Meg,  Hey  ding  a  ding,  Bony  lass  upon  a 
green,  My  bony  on  gave  me  a  bek,  By  a  bank  az  I  lay, 
and  a  hundred  more,  he  hath,  fair  wrapt  up  in  Parch- 
ment, and  bound  with  a  whipcord.  And  az  for  All- 
manaks  of  antiquitee.  ...  To  stay  ye  no  longer 
heerin,  I  dare  say  hee  hath  az  fair  a  library  for  theez 
sciencez,  &  as  many  goodly  monuments  both  in  proze  & 
poetry,  &  at  afternoonz  can  talk  az  much  without  book, 
az  ony  Inholder  betwixt  Brainford  and  Bagshot,  what 
degree  soeuer  he  be.    .    .  . 

' '  Captain  Cox  can  march  on  valiantly  before. "  >  .    .  . 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


181 


He  was  leading  the  procession  for  the  Coventry  play, 
an  old  historical  Hock-Tuesday  affair  commemorating 
an  ancient  massacre  of  the  Danes,  a  play  that  of 
course  had  a  sham  battle  in  it. 

I  have  been  fuller  in  this  quotation  than  in  that  of 
the  Oomplaynt  of  Scotland,  because  it  seems  a  more 
genuine  list.  Dr.  Furnivall  has  divided  the  contents 
into  sixty-two  items,  and  he  and  his  friends  and  pred- 
ecessors have  succeeded  in  identifying  a  very  large 
proportion,  especially  among  the  titles  of  the  first  set. 
There  we  find  two  undoubted  Child  ballads,  "  Robin 
Hood"  and  "Adam  Bell,"  and  perhaps  another,  "The 
King  and  the  Tanner."  There  is  also  the  "Nutbrown 
Maid,"  no  ballad  but  often  accounted  one,  and  the 
"merry  jest,"  "The  wife  lapt  in  a  Morels  skin,"  which 
seems  to  have  been  the  progenitor  of  a  Child  ballad 
(No.  277)  of  a  somewhat  similar  name.1  Of  course 
none  of  these  were  mentioned  by  Laneham  as  ballads. 
Of  those  that  he  does  specifically  call  "ballets  and 
songs,"  there  is  not  one  that  seems  at  all  likely  to  be 
of  the  Child  type.  And  as  for  the  "hundred  more,  he 
hath" — "all  auncient"  and  "fair  wrapt  up  in  Parch- 
ment, and  bound  with  a  whipcord," — like  the  Suffolk 
collection  regained  in  modern  times, — there  is  room,  of 
course,  for  difference  of  opinion,  but  I  should  be  very 
much  surprised  if  there  were  more  than  two  or  three 
other  Child  ballads,  and  if  they  were  different  from 
those  we  already  know  of  from  other  sources.  The 
ancientness  means  nothing  as  to  type.  The  reign  of 
Henry  VIII  would  be  quite  early  enough,  and  the  vast 
bulk  of  the  songs  and  ballads  of  that  age  were  far  dif- 
ferent from  the  Child  ballads. 

Other  material  of  the  first  half  of  the  reign  of  Eliza- 


1 — "The  Wife  wrapt  in  Wether's  skin." 


182 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


beth,  we  may  dismiss  briefly.  There  are  other  lists 
that  might  be  cited,  but  they  would  add  nothing  to 
our  stock  of  information.  The  most  important  is  by  a 
Puritan  signing;  himself  E.  D.,  who  wrote,  in  1572,  a 
book  with  a  title  beginning:  "A  brief  and  necessary 
instruction."1  From  these  words  it  may  be  guessed 
that  his  list  is  hostile  and  includes  " Robin  Hood"  and 
"Adam  Bell"  among  a  number  of  idle,  vain,  childish, 
and  wanton  works. 

There  is  also  some  descriptive  material  to  show  us 
the  status  and  condition  of  pipers  and  minstrels  of  the 
time,  but  there  is  nothing  that  would  connect  them 
with  Child  balladry.  There  is  a  lengthy  description  of 
a  minstrel  in  Laneham's  letter.2  It  pictures  him 
vividly,  his  dress,  which  seems  to  have  been  better  than 
the  usual,  his  thirsting  after  applause,  which  he  did 
not  get,  his  getting  tripped  up  in  his  facts  by  a  mem- 

1 —  The  list  has  been  quoted  in  part  several  times.  H.  E.  D. 
Anders,  Shakespeare  Jahrbuch,  XL,  pp.  228-9,  has  published  the 
fullest  account. 

2 —  Mary,  syr,  I  must  tell  yoo:  Az  all  endeuoour  waz  too  mooue 
mirth  &  pastime  (az  I  tolld  ye) :  eeuen  so  a  ridiculous  deuise  of 
an  auncient  minstrell  &  hiz  song  waz  prepared  to  haue  been 
proffered,  if  meet  time  &  place  had  been  foound  for  it.  Ons  in  a 
woorshipfull  company,  whear,  full  appointed,  he  recoounted  his 
matter  in  sort  az  it  shoould  haue  been  vttred,  I  chaunsed  too  be: 
what  I  noted,  heer  thus  I  tel  yoo :  A  parson  very  meet  seemed  he 
for  the  purpose,  of  a  xlv.  yeers  olid,  apparelled  partly  as  he  woold 
himself.  His  cap  of  :  his  hed  seemly  roounded  tonster  wyze : 
fayr  kemb,  that  with  a  spoonge  deintly  dipt  in  a  littl  capons  greaz 
was  finely  smoothed  too  make  it  shine  like  a  Mallard's  wing.  Hiz 
beard  smugly  shauen:  and  yet  hiz  shyrt  after  the  nu  trink, 
Avith  ruffs  fayr  starched,  sleeked,  and  glistening  like  a  payr  of  nu 
shooz:  marshalld  in  good  order:  wyth  a  stetting  stick,  and  stoout, 
that  euery  ruff  stood  vp  like  a  wafer :  a  side  gooun  of  kendall  green, 
after  the  freshnes  of  the  yeer  noow,  gathered  at  the  neck  with  a 
narro  gorget,  fastened  afore  with  a  white  clasp  and  a  keepar  close 
vp  to  the  chin:  but  easily  for  heat  too  vndoo  when  he  list:  Seemly 
begyrt  in  a  red  caddiz  gyrdl:  from  that  a  payr  of  capped  Sheffeld 
kniuez  hanging  a  to  side :  Out  of  hiz  bozome  drawne  foorth  a  lappet 
of  his  napkin,  edged  with  a  blu  lace,  &  marked  with  a  trulooue,  a 
hart,  and  A.  D.  for  Damian:  for  he  was  but  a  bachelar  yet. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


183 


ber  of  the  audience,  and  the  song  he  partly  sang.  All 
this  is  interesting  reading,  but  his  song  is  the  "King 
Ryence's  Challenge"  found  in  Percy's  Reliques.1  To 
Laneham's  account  we  might  add  Bulleyn's2  and  Gos- 
son's,3  if  we  were  particularly  interested  in  minstrelsy 
for  itself.  But  as  it  is,  we  had  best  pass  them  by,  and 
confine  ourselves  to  the  oft  quoted  but  still  readable 
tribute  of  the  noble  Sidney4  to  the  powers  of  one  old 
ballad, — most  likely,  the  "Hunting  of  the  Cheviot." 

Sir  Philip  has  been  asking  what  type  of  verse  dis- 
pleases the  objector  to  poetry.    Is  it  the  Pastoral,  or 

Hiz  gooun  had  syde  sleeuez  dooun  to  midlegge,  slit  from  the 
shooulder  too  the  hand,  &  lined  with  white  cotton.  Hiz  doobled 
sleeuez  of  blak  worsted,  vpon  them  a  payr  of  poynets  of  towny 
Chamblet  laced  a  long  the  wreast  wyth  blu  threeden  points,  a  wealt 
toward  the  hand  of  fustian  anapes:  a  payr  of  red  neatherstocks : 
a  pair  of  pumps  on  hiz  feet,  with  a  cross  cut  at  the  toze  for  cornz : 
not  mi  indeede,  yet  cleanly  blakt  with  soot,  &  shining  az  a  shoing 
horn. 

Aboout  hiz  nek  a  red  rebond  sutable  too  his  girdl:  hiz  harp  in 
good  grace  dependaunt  before  him:  hiz  wreast  tyed  to  a  green 
lace,  and  hanging  by:  vnder  the  gorget  of  hiz  gooun  a  fair  flagon 
cheyn,  (pewter,  for)  siluer,  as  a  squier  minstrel  of  Middelsex,  that 
trauaild  the  cuntree  this  soommer  seazon  vnto  fairz  &  worshipfull 
mens  hoousez :  from  hiz  chein  hoong  a  Schoochion,  with  mettall  & 
cooller  resplendant  vpon  hiz  breast,  of  the  auncient  arrnez  of  Isling- 
ton. 

1—  Wheatley  Ed.,  London,  1891,  III,  p.  25.  The  text  is  not  ex- 
actly the  same. 

2 —  William  Bulleyn  in  a  Morality  called:  "A  Dialogue  bothi 
pleasant  and  pietyfull,  wherein  is  a  goodly  regimen  against  the- 
fever  pestilence,"  etc.,  1564.  Quoted  by  Chappell,  Popular  Music., 
82.  ' '  There  is  one  lately  come  into  the  hall,  in  a  green  Kendal  coat,, 
with  a  yellow  hose,  'a  beard  of  the  same  colour,  only  upon  the? 
upper  lip,  a  russet  hat  with  a  great  plume  of  strange  feathers; 
and  a  brave  scarf  about  his  neck ;  in  cut  buskins.  He  is  playing  at 
the  trea  trippe  with  our  host's  son,  therefore  he  playeth  trick  upon 
the  gittern,  daunces  Trenchmore,  and  Heie  de  Gie,  and  telleth  news 
from  Terra  Florida. ' ' 

3—  Stephen  Gosson,  "The  School  of  Abuse,"  1579,  pp.  26-7. 
Arber  Eeprint.  Also,  "An  Apologie  of  the  Schoole  of  Abuse 
against  Poets,  Pipers,  Players,  and  excusers, ,;  1579.  Arber  Ee- 
print. 

4 —  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  An  Apologie  for  Poetrie,  (written  1580?) 
London,  1595.    Arber  Eeprint. 


184 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  Elegiack,  or  the  Comic,  or  the  Tragic?  "Is  it  the 
Liricke  that  most  displeaseth,  who  with  his  tuned  Lyre, 
and  well  accorded  voyce,  giveth  praise,  the  reward  of 
vertue,  the  vertuous  acts  who  gives  morall  precepts.  .  . 
Certainly  I  must  confess  my  own  barbarousnes,  I  never 
heard  the  old e- song  of  Percy  and  Duglas,  that  I  found 
not  my  heart  mooved  more  then  with  a  Trumpet :  and  yet 
is  it  sung  but  by  some  blinde  Crouder,  with  no  rougher 
voyce,  then  rude  stile:  which  being  so  evill  apparrelled 
in  the  dust  and  cobwebbes  of  that  uncivill  age,  what 
would  it  worke  trymmed  in  the  gorgeous  eloquence  of 
Pindar?" 

We  may  pass  his  comparison  of  the  ballad  and 
Pindar.  Later  ballad  enthusiasts  seem  to  have  taken 
from  it  a  hint  to  try  to  prove  that  ballads  and  works  of 
antiquity  are  not  unlike  in  methods  of  treatment.1  But 
there  will  be  enough  of  that  later  on.2 

Professor  Child  thought  that  "Sidney's  commenda- 
tion was  fully  justified  by  the  quality  of  'The  Battle  of 
Otterburn,'  but  was  merited  in  even  higher  degree  by 
"The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,'  and  for  that  reason 
alone  he  thought  the  latter  might  be  the  ballad  Sidney 
had  in  mind.  "3  He  thought  Sidney  must  have  heard  it 
in  a  form  much  older  than  the  one  that  has  come  to  us. 
He  even  doubted  that  to  Sidney  the  version  we  have 
would  have  seemed  a  song  of  an  uncivil  age,  two  hun- 
dred years  anterior.  "It  would  give  no  such  impression 
even  now,  if  chanted  to  an  audience  three  hundred  years 
later  than  Sidney."    It  is  hard  to  differ  with  Professor 


1 —  Sidney  may  not  have  been  the  first  to  suggest  such  a  com- 
parison, but  no  doubt  his  words  on  the  subject  had  the  widest  cur- 
rency.   Cf.  Gasson,  Schoole  of  Abuse,  Arber  reprint,  pp.  26,  27. 

2 —  See  especially  The  Spectator,  Nos.  70,  74,  etc.,  and  other 
early  18th  century  discussions. 

3—  Child,  Ballads,  III,  305. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


185 


Child  safely,  but  I  feel  compelled  to  do  so  on  this  point.1 
Whether  it  sounds  old  or  modern  depends  largely  on 
the  way  in  which  it  was  chanted.  The  old  grammatical 
forms,2  the  crude  syntax,3  the  occasional  lines  in  the 
Judas  meter,4  the  rude  rhythm,  all  seem  to  me  to  be 
traits  that  might  appeal  to  one  fastidious,  now  or  in  Sid- 
ney's time,  as  "cobwebbcs  of  an  ancient  and  uncivil  age." 
It  seems  to  me  most  probable  that  Sheale's  copy  repre- 
sents fairly,  though  no  doubt  with  many  individual 
alterations,  the  current  minstrel  version  of  this  grand 
old  traditional  ballad.5  But  of  course  this  is  merely 
opinion,  and  in  it  I  may  be  entirely  wrong. 


1 —  It  may  be  remarked  in  passing  that  of  course  I  am  not 
the  first  to  hold  a  different  view.  Sheale's  copy  seemed  quite 
crude  enough  to  Percy  to  equate  outright.  The  18th  century  of 
course  was  ultra  fastidious,  but  in  its  way  was  it  more  so  than  the 
courtly  writers  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth? 

2—  Of  which  Professor  Child  gives  an  extended  list. 

3 —  Cf .  the  first  stanza,  for  instance :  ' 1  The  Perse  owt  off  North  - 
ombarloude,  and  avowe  to  God  mayd  he,"  etc. 

4—  St.  I,  3,  5,  2,  etc. 

5 —  The  later  stall  version  was  certainly  based  upon  a  copy 
essentially  like  that  of  Sheale's. 


CHAPTER  VI 


Elizabeth's  Reign  (Continued). 

WITH  the  second  half  of  Elizabeth's  reign, 
the  dawn  and  morning  are  past,  and  the 
glorious  noonday  sun  shines  full  upon  us. 
There  is  no  need  of  emphasizing  the  literary  majesty 
of  the  period.  Everyone  knows,  by  reputation  at  least, 
what  an  age  of  divine  accomplishment  it  was — an  age 
most  extraordinary  not  alone  for  a  few  supreme  pro- 
ductions, but  quite  as  much  for  the  almost  infinite 
variety  of  the  literary  output.  In  so  richly  versatile 
an  age  we  should  expect  to  find  some  contributions  to 
traditional  balladry.    Nor  are  we  disappointed. 

Of  course  the  gleanings  are  practically  negligible 
if  we  compare  them  with  what  has  been  left  in  some 
other  fields  of  work.  Ballads  of  no  sort  were  in  very 
high  repute.  Dozens  of  references  from  men  of  all 
stations  could  be  cited  against  them.  Stall-balladry, 
in  so  far  as  authorship  was  concerned,  had  become  a 
trade  carried  on  by  men  none  too  respectable  in  the 
community.  Even  a  man  like  Deloney — and  he  was 
as  good  as  any— was  thought  little  of  by  men  of  sta- 
tion.1 The  stall-ballads  often  pandered  to  the  lowest 
instincts.  They  fed  an  ignorant,  news-loving  public 
with  crude  wonders,  with  sensational  accounts  of  base 

1— E.  Sievers,  in  his  life  of  Deloney  (Palaestra,  XXXVI,  Ber- 
lin, 1904,)  uses  as  his  basis  for  such  a  statement  the  letter  of 
Stephen  Slony,  mayor  of  London,  to  Lord  Burghley,  1598.  This 
mentions  his  work  for  the  silk  weavers  (Jack  of  Newbury)  and 
states  that  he  has  been  writing  a  ballad  containing  "vain  and 
presumptuous  matter,  bringing  in  her  highness  to  speak  with  her 
people  in  dialogue  in  very  fond  and  undecent  sort  and  preseribeth 
orders  for  the  remedying  of  the  dearth  of  corn,"  likely  to  arouse 
discontent  in  the  minds  of  the  poor. 


186 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


187 


wantonness  and  adultery,  with  horrible  murders,  gal- 
lows-confessions, and  executions.  It  is  not  strange  that 
serious  men  stormed  against  them,  and  that  others 
treated  them  with  ridicule  or  absolute  contempt.  To 
be  sure,  there  were  many  virtuous  ballads  of  pure  and 
faithful  love,  of  heroic  endeavor, — ballads,  too,  of  his- 
tory that  were  to  many  the  only  text-books  that  they 
knew.  But  the  reputation  of  the  good  was  called  in 
question  by  their  association  with  those  of  baser  sort. 
Then,  too,  even  the  best  could  lay  small  claim  to  lit- 
erary excellence.  Their  crudeness  in  style,  plot  and 
character,  their  hobbling  meter,  their  forced  rimes, 
and  the  a  "to  make  a  jerk  in  the  end," — all  these  things 
must  have  disgusted  the  literary  contemporaries  of 
Spenser  and  Shakespeare.  No  more  do  they  please 
most  of  us  except  as  curiosities  showing  what  the  under 
classes  then  were  fed  on. 

If  we  would  fully  appreciate  the  reasons  for  the 
general  contempt  for  ballads,  we  must  not  forget,  even 
in  this  brief  account,  the  men  who  retailed  the  songs 
to  the  public — the  ballad-singers  of  the  time.  From 
all  accounts  they  were  a  scurvy  lot,  thick  everywhere 
in  town,  city  and  country.  Stubbs  is  not  much  more 
severe  than  others  when  he  puts  into  the  mouth  of 
Philoponus : 

"I  thinke  that  all  good  minstrelles,  sober  and  chast 
musicians  (speaking  of  suche  drunken  sockets  and 
bawdye  parasits  as  range  the  Countreyes,  ryming  and 
singing  of  vncleane,  corrupt,  and  filthie  songs  in 
Tauernes,  Alehouses,  Innes,  and  other  publique  assem- 
blies,) may  daunce  the  wild  Moris  thorow  a  needles 
eye.  For  how  should  thei  bere  chaste  minds,  seeing 
that  their  exercyse  is  the  pathway  to  all  vncleanes. 
There  is  no  ship  so  balanced  with  massie  matter,  as 
their  heads  are  fraught  with  all  kind  of  bawdie  songs, 


188 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


filthi  e  ballads  and  seuruie  rymes,  seruing  for  euery  pur- 
pose, and  for  euery  Cumpanie."1 

Henry  Chettle  is  more  specific  and  concrete.  Lewd 
songs  have,  contrary  to  order,  been  printed  and  abu- 
sively chanted  in  every  street  in  London,  and  from 
there  have  been  carried  out  into  the  country.  He  tells 
how  the  sons  of  one  Barnes  have  spread  the  evil  in 
Essex  and  the  shires  adjoining.  Their  songs  are  such 
as  Watkins  Ale,  the  Carmans  Whistle,  Choping  knives, 
and  Frier  Foxtaile;  and  "if  there  be  any  one  line  in 
those  lewd  songs  than  other  more  abbominable,  that 
with  a  double  repetition  is  lowdly  bellowed."2  Chettle, 
farther  on  in  the  same  passage,  reports  the  gossip  of  a 
London  printer  who  took  apprentices  and  "after  a  little 
bringing  them  uppe  to  sing  brokerie,  takes  into  his 
shop  some  fresh  men,  and  trusts  his  old  servants  of  a 
two  months  standing  with  a  dossen  groates  worth  of 
ballads.  In  which,  if  they  proove  thrifty  hee  makes 
them  prety  chapmen,  able  to  spred  more  pamphlets 


1 —  Anatomy  of  Abuses  in  England,  A.  D.  1583.  Ed.  by  Furnivall 
for  the  New  Shakespeare  Society,  1879,  p.  171.  He  adds  more 
of  much  the  same  import.  ' '  And  yet,  notwithstanding, ' '  he  says, 
"it  weare  better  (in  respect  of  acceptation)  to  be  a  Pyper,  or 
bawdye  minstrell,  than  a  deuyne,  for  the  one  is  looued  for  his 
ribauldrie,  the  other  hated  for  his  grauitie,  wisdome  and  sobrietie. ' ' 
"Every  towne,  Citie,  and  Countrey,  is  full  of  these  minstrelles  to 
pype  vp  a  dance  to  the  Deuill;  but  of  dyuines,  so  few  be  as 
they  may  hardly  be  seene." 

Stubbs  began  his  literary  career  by  writing  stall-ballads  himself. 
The  first  was  issued  as  a  broadside  in  1581.  Its  title  reads:  "A 
fearfull  and  terrible  Example  of  Gods  iuste  iudgement  executed 
upon  a  lewde  Fellow,  who  vsually  accustomed  to  s weare  by  Gods 
Blood. "  It  is  reprinted  in  part  by  Furnivall  in  his  edition  of  the 
Anatomy  "to  show  the  doggrel  it  is  written  in."  He  takes  it 
from  Collier's  reprint  of  Broadside  B.  L.  Ballads. 

2 —  Kind  Harts  Dreame.  The  friendly  admonition  of  Anthonie 
Now  now  to  Mopo  and  Pickering.  Edited  by  E.  F.  Bimbault  for 
the  Percy  Society,  pp.  13  ff.  Chettle 's  account  is  interesting  read- 
ing and  has  been  several  times  quoted  in  part.  Cf.  Chappell, 
Popular  Music,  p.  106;  Gummere,  Popular  Ballad,  p.  5  f. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


189 


by  the  state  forbidden  then  all  the  booksellers  in  Lon- 
don." To  all  this  he  adds  the  charge  that  ballad- 
singers  are  either  pickpockets  or  their  confederates. 
"And,  alasse, "  he  comments,  "who  woulde  suspecte 
my  innocent  youthes,  that  all  the  while  were  pleasinge 
rude  people's  eyes  and  eares  with  no  less  delectable 
noise  then  their  ditties  were  delightsome :  the  one  bee- 
ing  too  odions  to  bee  read,  the  other  too  infectious  to 
be  heard." 

Further,  Robert  Green,  in  one  of  his  Conny-Catching 
pamphlets,  tells  us  precisely  how  the  thieving  was 
done — how  two  ballad-singers  worked  in  conjunction 
with  some  cutpurses.1  And  lastly,  let  us  not  forget  that 
our  friend  Autolocus  was  "a  snatcher-up  of  uncon- 
sidered trifles."    There  is  no  doubt  at  all  that  ballad- 


1 — Third  Part  of  Conny-Catching,  Huth  Library  X,  p.  161  f. 
Another  tale  of  a  new  coosening  companion,  who  would  needs  trie 
his  cunning  in  his  new  invented  art,  etc.  He  explains  that  this 
trade  of  Ballet  singing  is  carried  on  at  the  doors  of  the  play 
houses  as  also  in  open  markets,  and  other  places  of  the  City  where 
there  is  most  resort.  A  subtile  fellow  and  some  companions  "were 
there  got  vpo  a  stal  singing  of  balets,  which  belike  was  som  prety 
toy,  for  very  many  gathered  about  to  heare  it,  and  divers  buy- 
ing, as  their  affections  served,  drew  to  their  purses,  and  paid  the 
singers  for  them.  The  slye  mate  and  his  fellowes  who  were  dis- 
persed among  them  that  stoode  to  heare  the  songes;  well  noted 
where  euerie  man  that  bought,  put  up  his  purse  againe,  and  to 
such  as  would  not  buy,  counterfait  warning  was  sundrie  times 
given  by  the  rogue  and  his  associate,  to  beware  of  the  cut-pursser 
and  looke  to  their  pursses,  which  made  them  often  feel  where  their 
purses  were,  either  in  sleeves,  hose  or  at  girdle,  to  know  whether 
they  were  safe  or  no.  Thus  the  craftie  copesmates  were  ac- 
quainted with  what  they  most  desired,  and  as  they  were  scattered, 
by  shouldering,  thrusting,  feigning  to  let  fall  something,  and  other 
wilie  tricks  fit  for  their  purpose:  heere  one  lost  his  purse,  there 
another  had  his  pocket  pickt,  and  to  say  all  in  brief,  at  one 
instant,  upon  the  complaint  of  one  or  two  that  sawe  their  pursses 
were  gone,  eight  more  in  the  same  companie,  found  themselves  in 
like  predicament. ' '  People  did  not  know  whom  to  suspect,  be- 
cause the  villains  themselves  made  pretense  of  a  like  loss.  How- 
ever, the  ballad-singers  are  finally  suspected  and  are  attacked. 
And  when  they  are  taken  before  the  justices  it  is  found  they  are 
in  league  with  the  cutpurses. 


190 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


singers  were  as  a  rule  a  bad  lot,  and  their  wares  no 
better  than  themselves.  Even  Cornewaleys,  who 
seems  to  have  had  an  open  mind,  who  could  talk  with 
a  rude  husbandman  and  gain  knowledge,  and  who  in 
maturity  could  renew  his  nurse's  stories  and  still  find 
them  nourishing, — even  he  damns  ballads  and  ballad- 
singers  with  his  praise.  He  is  interested  in  "Pam- 
phlets, and  Lying  Stories  and  News,  and  two-penny* 
Poets."  "I  see  in  them,"  he  says,  "the  difference  of 
wits,  and  dispositions,  the  alterations  of  Arguments 
pleasing  the  world,  and  the  change  of  stiles.  .  .  . 
T  have  not  been  ashamed  to  adventure  mine  eares  with 
a  ballad-singer,  and  they  haue  come  home  loaden  to 
my  liking,  doubly  satisfied,  with  profit,  &  with  recrea- 
tion: the  profit,  to  see  earthlings  satisfied  with  such 
course  stuffe,  to  hear  vice  rebuked,  and  to  see  the 
power  of  Vertue  that  pierceth  the  head  of  such  a  base 
Historian,  and  vile  Auditory. 

"The  recreation  to  see  how  thoroughly  the  standers 
by  are  affected,  what  strange  gestures  come  from 
them,  what  strained  stuffe  from  their  Poet,  what  shift 
they  make  to  stand  to  heare,  what  extremeties  he  is 
driuen  to  for  Eime,  how  they  adventure  their  purses, 
he  his  wits,  how  well  both  their  paines  are  recom- 
pensed, they  with  a  filthy  noise,  hee  with  a  base 
reward. ' n 

But,  after  all,  these  many  condemnations  of  ballads 
and  ballad-singers  have  little  to  do,  very  likely,  with 
that  branch  of  the  subject  with  which  we  are  most 

1 — Sir  William  Cornewaleys,  the  younger.  Knight,  Essayes, 
Printed  for  Edmund  Wattes  1600.  My  attention  was  called  to 
these  essays  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Harold  V.  Bouth,  the 
able  writer  of  several  chapters  on  English  social  history  in  volumes 
of  the  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature.  All  the  remarks 
here  presented  are  from  the  fifteenth  essay:  "Of  the  observation 
and  use  of  things. ' 7 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


191 


interested.  We  should  grant  freely  that  the  Eliza- 
bethans had  good  cause  for  their  hostility  to  current 
balladry.  Enough  specimens  have  survived,  and 
among  them  the  lately  mentioned  Watkins  Ale,  to  show 
that  their  censure  was  not  much  too  strong.  We  would 
not  allow  many  of  the  pieces  to  be  sung  on  our  streets 
today.  But  none  of  these  surviving  specimens  belong 
to  the  type  which  we  know  as  the  Child  ballad;  nor, 
and  this  is  important,  are  any  of  the  Child  ballads, 
excepting  those  of  Robin  Hood  and  Clim  of  the  Clough, 
ever  mentioned  by  writers  in  their  lists  of  disreputable 
songs.1  This  is  not  said  as  an  intentional  panegyric  o£ 
traditional  balladry. 

The  latter  is  certainly  not  free  from  taint,  though  in 
this  respect  it  is  no  worse  than  the  stall  product.  The 
point  to  emphasize  is  that  the  Child  ballad  receives 
almost  no  specific  reference,  either  good  or  bad.  No 
specimen  of  the  type  has  survived  in  any  early  broad- 
side, though  at  least  a  few  were  reprinted.2  There  is, 
however,  nothing  to  indicate  that  many  could  have 
been  afloat  in  that  form.  Nor  is  there  anything  to 
show  that  the  type  was  very  current  in  any  other 

1 —  As  close  a  reference  as  any  is  that  in  Webbe  's  Discourse  of 
English  Poetrie,  the  Arber  Reprint,  p.  36:  "If  I  let  passe  the  un- 
countable rabble  of  ryming  Ballet  makers  and  compylers  of  sence- 
lesse  sonets,  who  be  most  busy,  to  stuffe  eury  stall  full  of  gross 
deuises  and  unlearned  Pamphlets,  I  trust  I  shall  with  the  best 
sort  be  held  excused.  Nor  though  many  such  Can  frame  an  Ale- 
house song  of  five  or  sixe  score  verses,  hobbling  uppon  some 
tune  of  a  Northern  lygge,  or  Eobyn  hoode,  or  La  lubber,  etc.  And 
perhappes  observe  iust  number  of  sillables  eyght  in  one  line,  sixe 
in  an  other,  and  there  withall  an  A  to  make  a  iercke  in  the  ende: 
yet  if  these  might  be  accounted  Poets  (as  it  is  sayde  some  of  them 
make  means  to  be  promoted  to  ye  Lawrell)  surely  we  shall  shortly 
have  whole  swarms  of  Poets:  and  every  one  that  can  frame  a 
Booke  in  Byrne,  though  for  want  of  matter,  it  be  but  in  commen- 
dation of  Copper  vases  or  Bottle  Ale,  wyll  catch  at  the  Garlande 
due  to  Poets." 

2 —  As  we  know  from  the  Stationers '  Register. 


192 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


form  in  the  accessible  up-to-date  parts  of  southern  Eng- 
land. In  all  these  respects  the  stall-ballad  offers  strik- 
ing contrasts.  Early  specimens  of  the  latter  type 
have  survived  in  considerable  numbers  in  the  actual 
printed  copies.  It  is  furthermore  often  specifically 
mentioned  as  current  both  in  London  and  elsewhere. 
If  the  Child  type  was  at  all  common,  the  almost  uni- 
versal silence  about  it  is  as  strange  as  it  was  unde- 
served. It  hardly  does  to  say  that  the  Child  ballad  was 
looked  upon  with  absolute  contempt.  How  often  the 
stall-ballad  was  mentioned  for  that  very  reason!  My 
own  conclusion — oft  arrived  at — is,  therefore,  that  the 
Child  ballad  was  not  much  current  in  southern  Eng- 
land. Of  course  there  must  have  been  numerous  speci- 
mens known  to  various  individuals  in  London.  The 
metropolis  was  made  up  of  an  extraordinarily  mixed 
population  continuously  recruited  from  all  parts  of 
the  British  isles.  Many  of  these  people  must  have 
brought  with  them  in  memory  excellent  traditional 
ballads.  But  such  songs  were  not  of  the  current  type ; 
and  their  naivete  and  somewhat  primitive  art,  and  the 
clinging  cobwebs  of  antiquity,  would  suggest  too 
strongly  bad  grammar  and  the  country  for  their 
friends,  themselves  uplandish  newcomers,  to  desire 
very  much  to  give  them  currency.  I  doubt,  therefore, 
very  much  if,  with  the  exception  of  Sidney's  praise,1 
any  of  the  Elizabethan  accounts  of  ballads  and  ballad- 
singers  were  written  with  Child  ballads  in  mind. 

But  yet  we  have  said  there  are  gleanings  of  actual 


I— Sidney's  praise  shows  that  at  least  one  of  these  ballads — 
by  no  means  a  superexcellent  specimen — could  receive  unprejudiced 
treatment.  There  is  no  reason  why  many  other  traditional  ballads, 
if  they  had  been  equally  well  knoAvn,  might  not  have  received  equal 
recognition.  The  Child  ballad  neither  lacks  art  nor  is  its  art  of  a 
kind  that  is* hard  to  appreciate. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


193 


Child  ballads  from  this  period.  Let  us  consider  them 
and  the  sources  from  whence  they  came. 

The  first  that  should  receive  attention  is  an  excellent 
version  of  "Captain  Car"  (No.  178),  found  near  the  end 
of  the  Cotton  MS.  Vespasian,  A.  XXV,  a  manuscript 
that  seems  to  be  all  of  it  from  the  last  quarter  of  the 
16th  century.  All  the  lyrics  and  songs  have  been 
printed,  though  not  always  carefully,  by  Dr.  Boddeker 
in  the  Jdlirbuch  filr  romanische  unci  englische  Littera- 
tur  (N.  F.  II,  81  ff.).  In  his  introduction  he  states 
that  the  date  of  the  make-up  of  the  manuscript  is  per- 
haps 1578,  but  inasmuch  as  the  manuscript  is  a  com- 
monplace-book of  miscellaneous  content,  written  in 
more  than  one  ink  and  perhaps  in  more  than  one  handy 
it  is  not  at  all  probable  that  it  was  all  written  in  the 
same  year,  and  since  the  ballad  in  question  is  the 
second  piece  from  the  end,  it  may  have  been  inserted 
a  considerable  time  later.  Captain  Car  is  the  only 
piece  that  shows  any  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Child 
type.  A  medley,  "Newes,  newes, "  has  a  not  very 
important  line  about  Robin  Hood,  that  we  have  already 
referred  to,1  and  there  is  in  the  manuscript  also  "A 
mery  Ballet  of  the  Hathorne  tree"2  that  is  quaint 
and  somewhat  folk-like,  but  it  would  never  be  mistaken 
for  a  genuine  Child  ballad.  Yet  this  manuscript  is  a 
large  one  of  over  two  hundred  folios  and  comprising. 


1—  Cf.  chapter  3,  p.  91. 

2 —  Byce  seems  to  be  authority  for  the  statement  that  this  poem 
has  the  signature  G.  Peele  written  after  it  in  the  manuscript.  (His 
edition  of  Peele.)  Bullen  in  his  edition  of  Peele  "s  works  follows 
Byce's  statement,  IT,  370.  Neither  thinks  it  very  probable*  that 
Peele  wrote  the  poem.  To  me  it  is  not  only  improbable,  but  I  was 
not  aware  there  was  any  such  signature.  I  came  across  the  attri- 
bution too  late  to  consult  the  MS.,  but  my  notes  have  as. the  sig- 
nature "G.  Poete. " 


194 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


sixty-nine  pieces.  The  range  of  the  material  is  wide, 
and  stall  and  minstrel  songs  and  ballads  there  are  in 
plenty. 

The  collection  seems  to  have  been  made  for  the 
scribe's  own  pleasure.  Captain  Car  is  signed,  "Finis 
per  me,  William  Asheton  clericum, "  and  the  latter 
may  have  been  the  transcriber  of  most  of  the  con- 
tents. The  writing  is  for  the  most  part  careless,  vary- 
ing in  size  and  closeness.  Captain  Car  is  itself  very 
carelessly  written  in  a  cramped  hand;  two  columns  to 
a  quarto  page.  The  first  line  of  the  refrain  is  quoted 
after  each  stanza.  The  first  two  pages  of  the  ballad 
have  been  corrected  by  probably  the  same  hand,  but 
with  a  slightly  different  ink.  Some  words  have  been 
crossed  out  and  others  written  above  the  line.  The 
whole  is  so  carelessly  done  that  the  transcriber  must 
have  intended  it  merely  for  his  own  perusal. 

As  for  the  ballad  itself,  there  are  two  or  three  points 
that  especially  need  noting.  First  of  all,  "Captain 
Car"  is  an  historical  ballad,  and  the  occurrence  that 
gave  rise  to  it  happened  in  November,  1571. 1  It  is  a 
minor  incident  in  the  rivalry  between  the  Gordons  and 
Forbeses,  two  Scotch  clans,  an  incident,  however,  that 
has  been  reported  by  several  chroniclers.  Not  only, 
then,  was  this  ballad  composed  in  fairly  modern  times, 
but  it  is  found  in  an  English  manuscript  and  in  an 
English  version,  but  a  very  few  years  after  the  actual 
occurrence.  Furthermore  the  next  earliest  version, 
that  in  the  Percy  MS.,  is  also  English  and  for  some 
distance  presents  practically  the  same  text.  The  Scotch 
versions,  of  which  there  are  several,  are  all  considera- 
bly later.  The  early  English  versions  show  no  in- 
cremental repetition,  though  they  are  in  other  re- 


1— Cf.  Child,  No.  178,  III,  424. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


195 


spects  very  ballad-like.  Some  of  the  Scotch  versions, 
especially  H  (taken  directly  out  of  tradition),  on  the 
other  hand  show  good  cases  of  incremental  repetition. 
In  none  of  the  versions  is  the  name  of  the  heroine  of 
the  ballad  correctly  given.  In  A,  the  version  we  are 
particularly  considering,  it  is  the  wife  of  Lord  Hamil- 
ton that  is  besieged  by  Captain  Car.  This,  says  Pro- 
fessor Child,1  is  a  heedless  perversion  of  history  such  as 
is  to  be  found  only  in  historical  ballads.  Hamilton 
was  on  the  same  side  as  Gordon.  To  be  sure  his  castle, 
and  therewith  the  town  and  palace,  had  been  burned 
somewhat  over  a  year  before  our  incident  happened; 
but  it  was  done  by  Lennox  and  his  English  allies. 
It  is  a  strange  thing  how  this  Scotch  ballad  got  afloat 
in  an  English  version  so  early.  I  have  not  yet  been 
able  to  work  out  the  clue,  but  I  should  not  be  surprised 
if  it  had  something  to  do  with  the  burning  of  Lord 
Hamilton's  castle. 

There  is  yet  one  other  Child  ballad  that  first  comes 
to  us  in  a  manuscript  source  from  the  second  half  of 
Elizabeth's  reign.  It  is  a  fairly  good  copy  of  "Sir 
Andrew  Barton"  (No.  167),  now  found  in  York 
Cathedral  Library.  Its  first  publisher2  states  that 
"The  MS.  of  this  well-known  and  most  popular  North- 
country  ballad  recently  came  into  the  possession  of  the 
Dean  and  Chapter  of  York  with  a  number  of  papers 
which  belonged  in  the  seventeenth  century  to  the 
episcopal  families  of  Lamplugh  and  Davenant.  It  is 
written  in  a  sixteenth- century  hand,  and  is  the  best 
known  version  of  the  famous  old  ballad.  ...  It 
has  at  one  time  formed  part  of  a  ballad  book  in  small 

1—  III,  428. 

2 —  [James  Eaine.]  A  volume  of  English  Miscellanies,  illus- 
trating the  history  and  language  of  the  northern  counties  of 
England.    Surtees  Society,  1890. 


196 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


4to,  this  song  being  numbered  25.  At  the  end  of  it  is 
part  of  No.  26,  beginning  'As  I  forth  walkeeth  aireley 
among  the  groves  and  pleasant  springes  in  the  merie 
moneth  of  May.'  " 

Professor  Child  comments:1  "If,  as  is  altogether 
probable,  there  were  copies  of  other  ballads  in  the 
same  book  in  quality  as  good  as  this,  and  if,  as  is 
equally  probable,  no  more  of  the  book  can  be  recov- 
ered, our  only  comfort  is  the  cold  one  of  having  had 
losses.  In  several  details  this  copy  differs  from  that 
of  the  Percy  MS.,  but  no  more  than  would  be  ex- 
pected. ,  .  .  Several  passages  are  corrupted.  A 
(the  Percy  MS.  copy)  throws  light  upon  some  of  these 
places,  but  others  remain  to  me  unamendable. " 

What  led  Professor  Child  to  make  the  statement 
that  it  is  altogether  probable  that  the  manuscript 
originally  contained  other  ballads  as  good  as  this  one, 
is  not  clear  to  me.  At  least  this  is  to  be  said,  that 
there  is  but  one  manuscript2  that  has  survived  from  a 
time  earlier  than  the  Percy  Folio,  which  has  more  than 
one  Child  ballad  in  it,  and  that  contains  but  two. 

"Sir  Andrew  Barton"  is  another  historical  ballad, 
but  the  fight  here  recorded  happened  long  before,  in 
1511.  However,  this  ballad  has,  so  to  speak,  been 
brought  up  to  date  historically.  It  was  Sir  Thomas 
and  Sir  Edward  Howard  that  really  fought  against 
Andrew  Barton.  But  it  is  Sir  Charles  Howard,  the 
commander  of  the  fleet  against  the  Armada,  who  is 
made  the  hero  of  the  ballad.  There  is  no  doubt  but 
that  the  ballad  was  in  existence  long  before  1588,  but 
it  must  have  been  changed  over  after  that  date,  and 
since  in  both  York  and  the  Percy  copy  reference  is 


1—  III,  502. 

2—  Sloane  MS.  2593,  Ballads  No.  22  and  No.  115. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


197 


made  to  the  contemporary  Howard  being  made  an 
earl,  the  date  must  have  been  after  1596,  when  Sir 
Charles  was  created  Earl  of  Nottingham.  This  neces- 
sarily puts  the  date  of  the  York  MS.  almost  if  not 
quite  out  of  the  16th  century. 

As  to  the  make-up  of  the  ballad,  there  is  not  much 
else  that  needs  comment.  It  may  be  said  that  the 
meter,  though  not  very  steady,  seems  to  differ  in 
theory  from  that  of  ordinary  ballads.  The  stanzas  are 
quatrains,  but  every  line  has  four  beats ;  the  feet  often 
being  very  heavy.  The  rime  is  irregular;  in  some 
stanzas  it  is  apparently  lacking,  but  in  others  there  is 
not  only  alternant  rime  but  an  internal  rime  as  well. 

There  are  two  other  Child  ballads  that  have  sur- 
vived from  Elizabeth's  reign,  both  unmistakable  in 
type.  They  are  "Flodden  Field"  (No.  168)  and  "The 
Fair  Flower  of  Northumberland"  (No.  9).  We  have 
to  thank  Thomas  Deloney  for  both — the  man  whom 
Nash  termed  "the  ballading  silk-weaver  of  Norwich." 
As  the  epithet  implies,  Deloney  was  himself  a  great 
writer  of  ballads.  Dr.  R.  Sievers  has  made  up  a  list  of 
forty-seven  pieces  that  he  attributes  to  him,  largely 
on  the  evidence  of  their  being  found  in  Deloney 's  two 
garlands,1  "Strange  Histories"  and  the  "Garland  of 
good  Will."  The  pieces  comprise  both  narratives  and 
lyrics,  though  Professor  Lange2  is  right  in  saying  that 
not  one  is  intimately  personal.  History,  drawn  from 
popular  chronicles,  romantic  stories  from  various 
sources,  and  current  events,  not  always  treated  to  the 
liking  of  those  in  authority,  furnish  most  of  the 
themes.    A  number  of  his  ballads  owe  their  substance 

1 —  Eeprinted  for  the  Percy  Society. 

2 —  In  the  description  of  Deloney 's  work  I  almost  retain  Profes- 
sor Lange 's  actual  words  as  he  has  expressed  them  in  his  intro- 
duction to  his  edition  of  The  Gentle  Craft,  Palaestra  XVIII,  1903. 


198 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


wholly  or  in  part  to  local  oral  tradition  or  wandering- 
legend.  Himself  a  self -tan ght  man  of  the  people,  his 
outward  life  bound  np  with  that  of  the  many,  Deloney 
shared  in  their  lore,  knew  their  stories  and  songs,  and 
in  turn  appropriated  for  their  enjoyment  whatever 
might  be  profitably  recast,  or  varied,  or  woven  in  with 
threads  supplied  by  his  fancy  or  reading.  Deloney 's 
tastes  were  distinctly  bourgeois;  and  his  experience 
and  observation  appear  to  have  been  confined  to  the 
humbler  phases  of  English  life.  Viewed  in  the  large, 
his  works  disclose  the  native  note  everywhere.  This 
is  as  true  of  his  prose  as  of  his  poetry.  In  his  prose 
narrative  he  leaned  heavily  on  the  current  books  of 
chivalry,  on  which  the  lower  classes  fed  their  hunger 
for  romance.  They  stored  his  memory  with  incidents, 
devices,  motifs';  they  impressed  themselves  upon  his 
style,  and  served  as  first  models  for  his  narrative 
technique.  It  is  in  one  of  these  prose  stories,  "The 
Pleasant  History  of  John  Winchcomb/'  that  we  find 
inserted  our  two  Child  ballads. 

His  account  of  John  Winchcomb, — "known  in  his 
younger  days  as  Jack  of  Newbery," — is  an  interesting- 
enough  tale  framed  after  Fancy's  own  liking.  It  is 
thoroughly  bourgeois.  The  poor  apprentice  and  maid 
make  great  progress  in  worldly  affairs.  After  riches 
come  honors.  Jack  raises  a  troop  and  is  brought 
before  the  Queen,  who  allows  him  to  kiss  her  lily-white 
hand.  The  account  of  Jack's  military  experience  leads 
to  the  statement  about  Flodden  Field  and  the  intro- 
duction of  one  of  the  ballads.  But  the  honors  grow 
with  the  story,  and  before  the  end  both  the  King  and 
Queen  deign  to  visit  Jack.  It  is  on  the  latter  occasion 
that  the  second  of  the  ballads  is  sung.  Let  us  see  how 
Deloney  introduces  them. 


ENGLISH  BALLADKY 


199 


In  telling  of  Flodden  Field,  lie  says:  "Many  Noble 
men  of  Scotland  were  taken  prisoners  at  this  battell, 
and  many  more  slaine :  so  that  there  never  came  a 
greater  foile  to  Scotland  than  this:  for  yon  shall 
understand,  that  the  Scottish  King  made  full  account 
to  be  Lord  of  this  Land,  watching  opportunity  to  bring 
to  passe  his  faithlesse  and  trayterous  practice:  which 
was  when  our  King  was  in  France,  at  Turney,  and 
Turwin:  In  regard  of  which  wars,  the  Scots  vaunted 
there  was  none  left  in  England,  but  shepheards  and 
ploughmen  who  were  not  able  to  lead  an  Army,  having 
no  skill  in  martiall  affaires.  In  consideration  of  which  v 
advantage,  hee  invaded  the  Countrey,  boasting  of 
victory  before  he  had  wonne :  which-  was  no  small 
griefe  to  Queene  Margaret,  his  wife,  who  was  eldest 
sister  to  our  noble  King.  Wherefore  in  disgrace  of  the 
Scots,  and  in  remembrance  of  the  famous  atchieved 
victory,  the  Commons  of  England  made  this  song: 
which  to  this  day  is  not  forgotten  of  many."  Then 
follows  the  ballad. 

Sievers,  while  admitting  the  probable  source  to  be 
tradition,  gives  the  credit  for  the  present  wording  of 
the  ballad  to  Thomas  Deloney.  He  thinks  the  state- 
ment about  the  song  being  made  by  the  Commons  of 
England  may  have  been  a  blind  to  raise  the  love  of 
the  public.  It  may  very  well  be  that  Deloney  has 
"improved"  the  ballad,  and  some  whole  stanzas  may 
be  due  to  him.  The  piece  is  not  very  well  balanced.1 
Over  a  half  is  devoted  to  the  introduction,  and  the 
scale  for  this  part  is  very  much  greater  t"han  for  that 
which  follows.    It,  too.  strikes  me  as  the  most  ballad- 


1 — If  Deloney  had  himself  written  it  he  would  certainly  have 
bettered  this  defect.  Deloney 's  introduction  is  along  quite  an- 
other line  from  the  material  in  the  ballad. 


200 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


like  in  method.  The  latter  part,  also,  has  a  varying 
stanza  structure.  But  comparing  this  piece  with  other 
ballads  known  to  be  by  Deloney,  I  think  one  need  not 
hesitate  in  taking  the  ballading  silk-weaver  at  his  own 
word.  This  is  a  genuine  traditional  ballad,  not  only 
in  basis,  but  also,  for  the  most  part  at  least,  in  actual 
form.  A  comparison  with  the  minstrel  ballad  on  the 
subject,  one  copy  of  which  is  found  nearly  a  half -cen- 
tury earlier,1  is  also  helpful  in  strengthening  that  con- 
clusion. The  type  is  different.  This  battle2  brought 
forth  considerable  poetry.  It  may  be  recalled  that 
Skelton's  ballad — the  earliest  stall  print — was  on  this 
victory.  Strange  to  say,  none  of  these  treatments  give 
much  attention  to  the  actual  battle.  In  the  minstrel 
piece  the  scene  is  all  laid  in  France,  and  what  happened 
as  but  vaguely  reported. 

But  now  let  us  turn  to  the  other  ballad  that 
Deloney  has  preserved  for  us.  As  has  been  stated,  that 
was  sung  before  the  King  and  Queen.  They  were 
visiting"  Jack's  factory,  if  I  may  so  call.it  by  a  slight 
anachronism,  and  saw  the  men  and  maids  at  their  work 
of  weaving  and  spinning.    Here  is  Deloney 's  account: 

"By  this  time  Jacke  of  Newbery  had  caused  all  his 
folkes  to  goe  to  their  worke,  that  his  Grace  and  all  the 
Nobility  might  see  it :  so  indeed  the  Queen  had  re- 
quested. Then  came  his  Highnesse  where  he  saw  an 
hundred  Loomes,  standing  in  one  roome,  and  two  men 
working  in  every  one,  who  pleasantly  sung  on  this 


1 —  Harleian  MS.  367.    Though  I  do  not  feel  sure  of  the  date. 

2 —  An  item  which  serves  to  link  the  material  with  that  of  an- 
other historical  ballad  is  that  "In  the  letter  sent  to  Henry  VIII  in 
France,  James  included  the  slaughter  of  Andrew  Barton  among 
the  unredressed  grievances  of  which  he  had  to  complain."  Cf. 
Child  III,  351. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


201 


sort. ' '  Then  follows  a  Weaver 's  song,  —  not  the 
traditional  ballad.    The  first  stanza  reads: 

THE  WEAVER'S  SONG. 

When  Hercules  did  use  to  spin, 

and  Pallas  wrought  upon  the  Loome, 

Our  trade  to  flourish  did  begin: 

while  Conscience  went  not  selling  Broomes. 

Then  love  and  friendship  did  agree, 

To  keep  the  band  of  unity. 

li  'Well  sung,  good  fellowes,'  said  our  King;  'light 
hearts  and  merry  mindes  live  long  without  gray  haires 
.  .  .'  His  Majesty  came  next  among  the  spinsters  and 
carders,  who  were  merrily  a  working :  .  .  .  The  King 
and  Queene  and  all  the  nobility  needfully  beheld  these 
women,  who  for  the  most  part  were  very  f aire  and  comely 
creatures,  and  were  all  attired  alike  from  top  to  toe. 
Then  (after  due  reverence)  the  maidens  in  dulced  man- 
ner chanted  out  this  Song,  two  of  them  singing  the 
Ditty,  and  all  the  rest  bearing  the  burden."  Then  fol- 
lows "The  Fair  Flower  of  Northumberland"  with  the 
title" The  Maidens  Song."  Deloney,  after  quoting  the 
ballad,  continues:  "After  the  Kings  Majesty  and  the 
Queene  had  heard  this  song  sweetely  sung  by  them,  he 
cast  them  a  great  reward,  and  so  departing  thence, 
went  to  the  Fulling-mils  and  Dye-house." 

-Unlike  Flodden  Field,  this  ballad  has  survived  to  us 
in  numerous  versions,  seven  in  all;  but  that  in  Jack  of 
Newbery  is  the  only  one  that  is  early.  It  is  to  be  said, 
also,  that  it  is  by  far  the  best  version.  The  Knight, 
though  false  and  cruel,  is  not  churlish  in  speech,  as  he 
is  in  some  of  the  Scotch  renderings ;  and  the  maiden  her- 
self is  as  modest  and  sweet  as  her  lot  is  pathetic.  In 
some  of  the  versions  all  the  delicacy  of  the  story  is  well- 
nigh  spoiled.    Our  present  version  has  a  grace  and 


202 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


modesty  that  is  really  feminine,  and  suggests  that 
Deloney  may  have  got  his  ballad  from  just  such  a 
source  as  he  describes.  He  does  for  this  piece  say 
that  it  is  from  tradition,  but  the  traditional  origin  is 
evident  enough  to  be  perceived  without  saying.  Even 
Dr.  R.  Sievers  grants  as  unquestionable  all  of  the 
piece  to  the  folk  except  the  last  stanza.  That  warns 
maidens  to  beware  of  Scots,  who  are  never  true, — an 
opinion  oft  expressed  by  Deloney.1 

We  have  now  reached  the  end  of  actual  Child  ballads 
from  the  second  half  of  Elizabeth's  reign, — four  speci- 
mens: it  is  as  large  a  number  as  any  equal  period  has 
left  us  up  to  that  date,  and  both  for  quality  and  variety 
we  may  pronounce  them  a  good  lot.  Each  one,  too, 
has  something  distinctive  about  it.  Captain  Car  is 
remarkable  for  its  early  appearance  in  a  manuscript 
remote  from  the  scene  of  action.  Sir  Andrew  Barton 
is  the  first  surviving  naval  ballad  of  the  Child  type. 
Flodden  Field  is  the  first  Child  ballad  quoted  at  length 
in  a  printed  book.  And  the  Fair  Flower  of  Northum- 
berland is  the  first  of  the  sweet  tragic  love-ballads  that 
are  later  to  be  found  in  such  numbers. 

Besides  these  four  specimens  there  is  bequeathed  to 
as  by  the  period  very  little  Child  material  of  any  im- 
portance. There  are  a  few  scattered  ballad  references, 
such  as  to  Robin  Hood  and  Clim  of  the  Clough  and  a 
few  other  bold  worthies.  The  most  important  we  have 
already  at  some  place  specifically  noted.  The  most 
astounding  is  Nash's  apostrophe  to  Clim  of  the  Clough: 
"thou  that  useth  to  drinke  nothing  but  scalding  lead 
and  sulphur  in  hell,  thou  art  not  so  greedie  of  thy 
night  geare.    0,  but  thou  hast  a  foule  swallow  if  it 

1 — However,  this  opinion  is  not  at  all  peculiar  to  Deloney.  Cf. 
Minot's  song  of  the  battle  of  Bannochburn,  a  poem  of  the  14tb 
century. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


203 


come  once  to  the  carousing  of  humane  bloud ;  but  thats 
but  seldome,  once  in  seaven  yeare,  when  theres  a  great 
execution,  otherwise  thou  art  tyde  at  rack  and  manger, 
and  drinkst  nothing  but  Aqua  vitae  of  vengeance  all 
thy  life  time.  The  Proverb e  gives  it  foorth  thou  art  a 
knave,  and  therefore  I  have  more  hope  thou  art  some 
manner  of  a  good  fellowe :  let  mee  intreate  thee  (since 
thou  haste  other  iniquities  inough  to  circumvent  us 
withall)  to  wype  this  sinne  out  of  the  catalogue  of  thy 
subtilities:  helpe  to  blast  the  vynes,  that  they  maye 
beare  no  more  grapes,  and  sowre  the  wines  in  the 
cellars  and  Merchants  storehouses."  All  of  it  an 
astonishing  address,  and  to  me,  at  least,  incompre- 
hensible. 

Nash  has  many  other  scattered  remarks  of  interest  to 
the  student  of  Elizabethan  balladry,  but  there  is  only 
one  that  pertains  to  actual  Child  material.  That  is  in 
the  "  Epistle  Dedicatorie".  to  Have  with  you  to  Saffron- 
TV alden,  where  he  addresses  the  "Acute  and  amiable 
Dick,  not  Die  mihi  musa  virum,  music  Dick  .  .  .  nor 
old  Dick  of  the  castle  .  .  .  nor  Dick  Swash  .  .  .  nor 
Dick  of  the  Cow,  that  mad  demilance  northern  borderer 
who  plaied  his  prizes  with  the  lord  J ockey  so  bravely. ' r 
"Dick  of  the  Cow"  is  a  Child  ballad  (No.  185)  that  has 
come  down  to  us  from  late  in  the  18th  century  in  several 
copies  of  a  single  version.  It  is  an  amusing  piece  telling 
how  Dick,  a  fool,  avenged  himself  on  Johnnie  Arm- 
strong, who  had  stolen  his  three  kyne  and  his  wife's 
coverlets.  The  Laird's  Jock  is  an  important  figure  in 
the  ballad,  though  not  the  central  one.  The  remarks  by 
Nash,  however,  are  sufficiently  close  to  prove  clearly  that 
he  had  in  mind  the  Child  ballad,  though  he  may  have 
known  it  in  a  different  version. 

But  Nash  not  only  wrote  of  famous  ballad  characters 


204 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


in  passages  such  as  those  we  have  quoted;  he  did  not 
escape  the  sad  luck  of  being  made  a  ballad-hero  him- 
self. This  was  no  uncommon  experience  for  men 
of  the  time, — indeed  scurrilous  and  libelous  personal 
songs  have  been  rather  frequent  in  most  centuries, — 
and  that  in  this  period  they  were  especially  dreaded  is 
shown  by  Mr.  Chappell  by  a  great  number  of  citations.1 
Gabriel  Harvey,  in  his  pamphlet  "The  Trimming  of 
Thomas  Nashe, '  '2  twice  predicted  that  his  sharp-tongued 
assailant  would  get  balladed,  and  perhaps  the  learned 
Doctor  is  not  entirely  innocent  of  the  suggestion  of  the 
surviving  specimen.  At  least  the  piece  has  the  same 
title  as  his  pamphlet.  "The  Trimming  of  Tom  Nashe" 
is  a  long,  humorous,  though  not  always  decorous  ballad, 
telling  of  the  hero's  travels  as  a  youth.  The  account 
does  not  natter  him.  It  is  the  first  piece  in  a  not  very 
well  known  Sloane  MS.  from  the  beginning  of  the  17th 
century  (MS.  1489).  The  ballad  is  worth  reading,  and 
has  been  published  in  full  by  Mr.  Grosart,  but  in  the 
almost  inaccessible  Huth  edition  of  the  works  of  Gabriel 
Harvey.  If  the  lampoon  were  a  mere  stall  piece,  it 
could  not  for  a  moment  demand  our  attention;  but  it 
happens  that  this  ballad  has  more  nearly  the  traditional 
tone  than  most  productions  of  the  sort,  as  if  the  writer  had 
as  his  model  not  only  popular  romances  such  as  those 
he  cites,  but  very  likely  some  more  or  less  traditional 
ballads  as  well.  The  ordinary  ballad  stanza  is  used, 
perhaps,  too,  a  refrain,  and  there  are  a  few  suggestive 
phrases  and  tricks  of  style.  On  this  account  it  may  not 
be  amiss  to  quote  enough  from  it  to  show  its  general 
character.  It  was  evidently  made  for  a  minstrel.  It 
begins : 

1 —  Popular  Music,  I,  253.  Many  of  the  citations  are  very  pro- 
nounced, though  most  of  them  date  from  the  time  of  James  I. 

2—  Keprinted  in  the  Huth  Library.    Vol.  Ill,  p.  61,  p.  70. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


205 


Harke,  harke  my  Masters,  and  give  eare,  give  eare,  etc. 
Harke,  harke  my  maysters  and  be  still,  be  still  and  give 
good  eare 

And  I  will  singe  as  merrye  a  jeast  as  you  have  hearde 
this  yeare; 

For  mirth  methinkes  this  merrye  ryme  shold  not  come 
out  of  season, 

If  any  then  fynds  any  faulte,  he  lackes  both  wit  [and] 
reason. 

Yet  sing  I  not  of  lo  [rd]  nor  kn[ight]  nor  Sq[uire]  of  low 
degree, 

But  of  a  merrye  Greeke  who  dwelt  far  hence  'ith  North 
countrie : 

Far  hence  'ith  North  Countrye  he  dwelt:  his  name  I 
have  forgot; 

But  since  he  was  foole  neere  a  kin  to  Monsier  Don 
Quixot, 

And  he  as  many  authors  read  as  ere  Don  Quixot  had ; 
And  some  of  them  colde  say  by  harte,  to  make  the  hearers 
glad. 

The  valyand  deeds  o'  th'  knfight]  of  th'  Sun  and  Rosi- 
cleer  soe  tall, 

And  Palmarinde  of  Engl  [and]  too,  and  Amadis  of  Gaul  ; 
Bevis  of  Hampton  he  had'  read,  and  Guy  of  Warwick 
stoute, 

Huon  of  Burdeux,  though  so  long,  yet  he  had  read  him 
out; 

The  hundred  tales,  and  scroggings  jeasts,  and  Arthur  of 
th'  round  Table, 

The  twelve  wyse  men  of  Gotam  too,  and  Ballats  in- 
numerable : 

But  to  proceed,  and  not  to  make  the  matter  long  or 
garrishe, 

He  was  the  onelye  onelye  youth  that  was  in  al  our 
parishe ; 

This  gallant  livde  foole  20  yeares  under  his  Mother's 
wing, 

And  for  to  see  some  countryes  strange,  he  thought  to 
have  a  flinge. 

He  saddled  then  his  good  gray  mare,  his  mare  as  gray 
as  glasse, 


206  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 

The  wch  cold  carry  e  sackes  to  th'  mil,  far  better  then  an 
Asse; 

He  tooke  his  leave  of  all  his  friends  but  chieflye  of  his 
mother, 

Who  swore  of  all  the  Barnes  she  had,  she  had  not  sike 
an  other. 

He  mounted  then  upon  his  mare,  and  short  tale  for  to 
telle, 

His  father's  Bootes,  and  one  old  spur,  did  serve  him 
passing  well; 

His  mother's  Girdle  for  a  scarf e,  did  make  him  fine  and 
gay; 

Wth  rustye  morglay  by  his  syde  foole  brave  he  went 
away. 

He  had  not  ridden  halfe  a  myle,  good  lucke  may  him 
betyde, 

But  he  askte  the  way  to  Lond[on]  towne,  for  thether 

wold  he  ryde; 
Yet  was  it  never  his  good  luck,  his  good  luck  to  come 

there ; 

Disastrous  fortune  kept  him  backe,  as  you  shall  after 
heare. 

But  when  he  had  ridden  twenty  myles,  twenty  at  the 
most; 

He  at  an  old  house  did  dismount,  and  then  began  to 
boast ; 

If  England  bee  as  big  each  way  as  I  have  come,  he 
sayde, 

Then  of  the  Spanyard,  Turke,  nor  Pope,  we  need  not  be 
afrayde ; 

But  then  to  his  Ostis  spake  he,  let  me  have  for  my 
Money 

A  daintye  dish,  wch  likes  me  well,  men  call  Codlinge 
and  honey. 

In  truth  Sr>  (qth  she)  I  have  neither  Cake,  pye,  nor 
Custarde. 

But  I  have  a  dishe,  a  dainty  dish,  men  call  stewd 
pr[unesj  and  musterd. 

The  piece  then  tells  how  the  youth  went  on  to  York 
and  was  there  frightened  out  of  his  wits  by  a  barber 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


207 


who  tried  to  shave  him.  The  satire  becomes  broad, 
even  vulgar.  Nash's  name  is  not  mentioned  except  in 
the  title,  and  the  material  does  not  seem  very  well 
adjusted  to  him.  Perhaps  the  ballad  was  made  over 
from  an  earlier  work,  the  suggestion  coming  from  Har- 
vey's pamphlet  of  the  same  name.  Anyway,  the  result 
is  abusive  ballad  satire.1 

Probably  there  were  numerous  other  pamphleteers 
in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  that  contributed  directly  or 
indirectly  to  balladry,  but  at  present  I  am  not  aware  of 
any  that  we  need  to  consider.  Among  writers  of  more 
dignity,  Carew  certainly  deserves  mention  for  his  refer- 
ence to  the  ballad  of  John  Dory  (No.  284).  In  his 
Purvey  of  Cornwall  he  states  that  ''Moreover,  the 
prowess  of  one  Nicholas,  son  to  a  widow  near  Foy,  is 
descanted  upon  in  an  old  three-man's  song,  namely,  how 
he  fought  bravely  at  sea  with  John  Dory  (a  Genowey, 
as  I  conjecture),  set  forth  by  John,  the  French  king, 
and  after  much  bloodshed  on  both  sides,  took,  and  slew 
him,  in  revenge  of  the  great  ravine  and  cruelty  which 
he  had  fore  commited  upon  the  Englishmen's  goods 
and  bodies."  This  statement  was  made  in  the  1602 
edition  of  the  Survey,2  and  it  was  only  seven  years 
later  that  the  single  version  which  we  have  got  into  a 
song  collection.3  In  the  printed  copy  of  the  ballad 
Nieholl  is  said  to  be  from  near  Bohide,4  but  he  is 
described  as  a  Cornish  man  and  the  difference  in  place 
name  may  be  due  to  a  local  variant. 

1 —  The  end  seems  to  show  it  was  written  for  a  minstrel  to  sing: 

Thus  have  I  done  the  best  to  please,  the  best  that  I  was 
able, 

Wch  if  it  please,  then  bid  me  Drinke,  and  so  be  at  your 
Table. 

2 —  P.  135.  The  quotation,  however,  is  from  the  edition  of  1813, 
p.  316.    See  Child,  V,  132. 

3 —  Eavenscrof t 's  Deuteromelia,  1609. 

4 —  Wherever  that  may  be,  I  do  not  know. 


208 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


In  Elizabeth's  reign,  literary  song  material,  pub- 
lished in  collections,  was,  as  is  well  known,  exceed- 
ingly abundant.  Miscellany  followed  miscellany  in 
edition  after  edition,1  many  of  them  richly  laden  with 
precious  ore.  But  the  poetical  miscellanies  have  noth- 
ing to  offer  us  in  the  way  of  ballad  material.2  They 
were  evidently  intended  for  the  higher  circles  and  con- 
tain nothing  of  a  popular  or  traditional  nature.  There 
also  came  out  no  doubt  other  collections  of  a  more 
plebeian  tone,  such  as  the  "garlands"  of  Deloney,3  but 
these  likewise  contained  nothing  traditional.  The  same 
statement  holds  good  for  the  various  song-books,  per- 
haps even  more  numerous  than  the  miscellanies. 
Between  1587  and  1600  there  were  published,  accord- 


1 —  Cf.  introduction  to  the  Arber  reprint  of  Tottle's  Miscellany, 
p.  V,  where  the  various  editions  of  the  various  collections  are 
specified  for  Elizabeth's  reign.  Two  or  three  miscellanies  had  as 
many  as  eight  or  more  editions. 

2 —  Perhaps  the  nearest  approach,  and  that  offers  nothing  tra- 
ditional, is  Clement  BobinsonV 1 A  Handful  of  pleasant  Delites, " 
1566,  1584.  Printed  by  Eichard  Jones,  Arber  reprint.  The  in- 
troduction to  the  reprint  explains  that  this  is  a  song-book  rather 
than  a  Book  of  Poetry.  Eichard  Jones,  one  of  the  minor  publish- 
ers of  this  day,  specially  addicted  himself  to  the  production  of 
ballads.  This  little  book  was  originally  made  up  of  some  of  the 
more  favorite  songs  that  he  had  published.  The  principle  of 
selection  seems  to  have  consisted  in  the  exclusion  of  all  poems  on 
religious  subjects,  political  affairs  or  distinguished  persons;  and 
also  of  all  those  on  monsters  and  wonderments.  Much  of  the  verse 
is  indeed  of  the  stall-ballad  kind. 

3 —  I  am  not  aware  that  any  of  these  garlands  have  actually  sur- 
vived in  editions  from  Elizabeth's  reign.  But  that  there  were  gar- 
lands published  then  is  certain.  Deloney  himself  died  early  in  the 
year  ]  600,  according  to  E.  Sievers,  Palaestra  XXXVI.  Lehen  and 
he  made  two  such  collections.  Chappell's  statement  that  garlands 
were  first  collected  in  the  time  of  James  (Popular  Music,  252)  is 
a  lapse,  for  he  mentions  Deloney  in  the  very  statement.  Also,  even 
if  Ave  do  not  count  Skelton's  Goodly  Garland  of  Laurel  of  the  first 
quarter  of  the  16th  century,  some  of  the  Elizabethan  collections 
are  not  unlike  garlands,  especially  such  a  one  as  The  Handful  of 
pleasant  Delites. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


209 


ing  to-  Dr.  Bolle,1  at  least  twenty-eight  song  collections 
of  varying  types.  In  many  the  music  was  of  more 
importance  than  the  words.  Of  the  latter  we  have  an 
easy  means  of  judging  from  the  numerous  reprints  in 
Arber's  English  Garner.2  There  is  absolutely  nothing 
there  that  even  approaches  the  traditional  manner. 

There  is  only  one  other  class  of  material3  that  we 
need  to  consider  in  this  chapter,  and  that  is  the  Eliza- 
bethan drama.  But  even  here,  though  in  many  plays 
there  are  references  to  current  songs  and  sometimes 
actual  quotations  from  them,  the  contributions  to  Child 
balladry  are  indeed  very  slight.  There  are,  in  fact,  no 
more  than  three  or  four  plays  that  require  attention.4 

Of  these,  Peele's  Edward  I.  is  not  only  earliest5  in 
point  of  composition,  but  it  is  also,  to  the  ballad  student, 
by  far  the  most  interesting.  To  be  sure  the  play,  judged 
as  dramatic  literature,  is  crude  stuff.  It  not  merely 
lacks  in  unity  and  coherence:  it  seems  to  exhibit  three 


1—  William  Bolle,  Die  gedruchten  englischen  Liederbucher  bis 
160Q.    Palaestra,  XXIX,  Berlin,  1903.    He  gives  a  list. 

2 —  The  reissue  of  Professor  Arber's  An  English  Garner,  Shorter- 
Elizabethan  Poems.  The  new  editor,  A.  H.  Bullen,  has  a  short 
introduction  on  song-books  and  miscellanies. 

3 —  The  Stationers'  Register  has  not  been  mentioned,  but  the 
contribution  from  that  source  is  not  rich:  the  pseudo-ballad  of 
Andrew  Brown  (cf.  Child,  180),  May  30,  1581,  Arber  II,  393:  A 
merry  jest  of  John  Tomson  and  Jackaman  his  wife,  August  lr 
1586;  Arber  II,  450;  (Not  the  traditional  ballad  of  John  Thomson 
and  the  Turk,  Child  No.  266)  ;  "A  merie  songe  of  the  Kinge  and 
the  Tanner,'7  August  1,  1586,  Arber  II,  451;  Pastoral  comedy  of 
Eobin  Hood  and  Little  John,  May  14,  1594,  Arber,  II,  649;  Two- 
plays,  being  the  first  and  second  parts  of  Edward  IV.  and  the  Tan- 
ner of  Tamworth,  Arber,  III,  147.  August  28,  1599;  A  merye,. 
pleasant  and  delectable  history  between  Kinge  Edward  IV.  and  a 
Tanner  of  Tamworth,  and  the  ballad  of  the  same  matter.  Arber, 
III,  173.    Child  No.  273. 

4 —  We  shall  postpone  treatment  of  Shakespeare  and  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher  until  the  next  chapter. 

5 —  Printed  in  1593.  P.  E.  Schelling  (Elijabethan  Drama, 
1,262)  thinks  the  play  was  composed  not  long  after  the  defeat  of 
the  Armada. 


210 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


or  four  kinds  of  literary  workmanship.  It  contains 
two  grades  of  blank  verse1  so  distinct  that  they  could 
hardly  be  contemporary  work  of  the  same  man.  And 
besides,  there  is  a  lot  of  rimed  verse,  mostly  tetrameter, 
that  is  so  crude  that  it  must  surely  have  been  taken 
from  a  more  primitive  type  of  drama.  It  would  seem 
evident  that  just  as  Peele's  Old  Wives  Tale  contains 
quantities  of  folk-lore  in  solution,  so  this  play  presents 
us  with  considerable  folk-drama,  and  perhaps  folk- 
ballad,  in  a  state  not  far  removed  from  its  original. 
Take  the  speech  of  the  Friar  at  his  entry  in  the  second 

scene :  Guenthian,  as  I  am  true  man, 

So  will  I  do  the  best  I  can ; 
Guenthian,  as  I  am  true  priest, 
So  will  I  be  at  thy  behest ; 
Guenthian,  as  I  am  true  friar, 
So  will  I  be  at  thy  desire.2 

Here  we  find  incremental  repetition.  The  style  and 
tone  are  precisely  that  of  folk-poetry :  it  cannot  be  far 
removed.  Likewise,  the  material  that  follows  in  the 
next  two  or  three  pages  of  text  reads  precisely  as  if 
it  came  straight  from  the  folk-drama.  It  is  a  tale  of 
a  friar's  wooing  that  is  hardly  more  literary  than  the 
Robin  Hood  plays  that  have  come  to  us  from  a  some- 
what earlier  period.  It  does  not  seem  out  of  place  for 
the  friar  to  suggest  the  singing  of  a  merry  country 
song.3  It  is  just  such  a  piece  as  might  well  have  been 
played  on  a  May-day.  So,  too,  the  rival  wooing  of  the 
Friar  and  Mortimer4  (disguised  as  a  potter)  is  sugges- 
tive of  folk-drama  not  only  in  the  names  of  the  con- 


1—  Cf.  the  beginning  of  the  play  with  the  end. 

2—  Bullen's  edition.    Sc.  II,  p.  99. 

3—  Bullen,  p.  101,  (Sc.  II)  1.  93. 

4—  Ibid.    Sc.  VIII,  pp.  144  ff. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


211 


testants,  but  equally  so  in  the  language  used  and  in 
the  horse-play.  The  verse  at  times  approaches  the 
Skeltonic.1 

But  the  parts  we  have  mentioned  thus  far  are  pre- 
sumably borrowings  from  folk-drama  and  may  have 
nothing  to  do  with  balladry.  But  ballads,  too,  are 
drawn  upon  for  material.  Lluellen  and  his  associates, 
as  outlaws,  take  unto  themselves  the  names  and  func- 
tions of  various  Robin  Hood  heroes  of  later  tradition.2 
The  author's  ideas  about  these  characters  may  also 
have  come  from  the  May-day  games,  but  there  is  at 
least  one  passage  which  shows  that  Peele  had  heard 
Robin  Hood  ballads  from  a  traditional  source.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  eighth  scene  Lluellen  says : 

1 —  There  are  numerous  strings  of  short-line  rimes,  generally  in 
passages  in  which  the  Friar  appears.  The  material  on  pp.  148-9 
of  Bullen  illustrates  as  well  as  any.  Thus: 

"  Friar,  a  ditty 
Come  late  from  the  city, 
To  ask  some  pity 
Of  this  lass  so  pretty." 

And, 

' '  Let  us  deem  of  the  matter, 
Friar  and  potter 
Without  more  clatter 
I  have  cast  your  water." 

2 —  Lluellen  says  to  his  followers :  "  .  .  .  naked  came  we 
into  the  world,  naked  are  we  turned  out  of  the  good  towns  into  the 
wilderness.  Let  me  see;  mass,  methinks  we  are  a  handsome  com- 
monwealth, a  handful  of  good  fellows.  What  say  you  sir  [s]  ?  We 
are  enough  to  keep  a  passage:  will  you  be  ruled  by  me?  We'll 
get  the  next  day  from  Brecknock  the  Book  of  Eobin  Hood;  the 
friar  he  shall  instruct  us  in  this  cause,  and  we'll  even  here  fare 
and  well.  .  .  I'll  be  Master  of  Misrule,  I'll  be  Eobin  Hood, 
that's  once:  cousin  Bice,  thou  shalt  be  Little  John:  and  here's 
Friar  David  as  fit  as  a  die  for  Friar  Tuck.  Now,  my  sweet  Nell, 
if  you  will  make  up  the  mess  with  a  good  heart  for  Maid  Marian, 
and  dwell  with  Lluellen  under  the  greenwood  trees,  with  as  good  a 
will  as  in  the  good  towns,  why,  plena  est  curia. ' ' — Bullen,  Sc.  VII, 
pp.  139-40.  The  passage  shows  that  Peele  must  have  known  a 
*  '  book  of  Eobin  Hood. ' '  It  seems  to  indicate,  also,  that  the  book 
did  not  represent  very  good  tradition. 


2]  2 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Why,  so,  I  see,  my  mates,  of  old 
All  were  not  lies  that  beldames  told 
Of  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John, 
Friar  Tuck  and  Maid  Marian.1 

The  play  uses,  however,  much  more  plainly  other 
ballad  material.  In  fact,  a  large  part  of  the  plot  is 
based  on  a  stall  production  entitled  "A  Warning- 
Piece  to  England  against  Pride  and  Wickedness."2 
This  stall-ballad  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  same 
date  as  the  play.  It  is  the  stall  piece  that  is  responsible 
for  much  of  the  historical  inaccuracy.  To  it  is  due  the 
shameful  slanders  cast  against  the  name  of  Eleanor  of 
Castile,  the  model  wife  of  Edward  Longshanks.  And 
it  is  also  a  line  found  toward  the  end  of  the  piece  that 
suggested  to  the  dramatist  the  use  of  another  ballad — 
this  time  one  really  found  in  the  Child  collection — for 
suitable  material  to  end  his  play.  For  Peele  has  trans- 
ferred the  story  of  " Queen  Eleanor's  Confession" 
(Child,  No.  .156)  from  Eleanor  of  Equitaine  and  Henry 
II  to  the  Eleanor  of  his  play.  It  furnishes  good 
dramatic  material. 

In  The  Pleasant  Conceyted  Comedie  of  George  a 
Greene,  the  Pinner  of  Wakefield, — generally  ascribed 
now  to  the  authorship  of  Robert  Green,3  we  have  a 
play  written  perhaps  not  much  later  than  Edward  I, 
but  immeasurably  superior  in  dramatic  construction. 
Professor  Schelling  has  described  it  as  "unquestion- 
ably the  freshest  and  brightest  of  the  several  comedies 

1  —  Bnllen,  p.  144. 

2 —  Quoted  in  Bnllen 's  edition  of  Peele,  pp.  77  ff.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Collection  of  Old  Ballads,  1723,  vol.  1,  p.  97  f. 

3—  Cf.  Green's  editor,  Professor  J.  C.  Collins,  E.  Green,  Plays 
and  Poems,  Oxford,  1905,  vol.  II,  p.  161.  Also  Schelling,  Eliza- 
bethan Drama,  Boston,  1908, 1,  259.  Schelling  puts  the  date  of  com- 
position as  between  1588  and  1592.  Our  earliest  printed  edition 
is  1599. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


213 


in  which  Robin  Hood  appears  as  a  character."1  But 
for  all  this  praise  the  play  is  hardly  of  as  much  impor- 
tance to  the  student  of  ballad  history  as  the  Edward  I, 
which  we  have  just  considered.  There  are  to  be  sure 
plenty  of  ballad  characters  in  the  drama.  There  is 
Robin  Hood,  Much,  Scarlet,  Maid  Marian,  and  most 
prominent  of  all,  George  a '  Green,  but  the  source  of  the 
play  is  for  the  most  part  not  directly  the  ballads  but 
a  prose  history,  a  copy  of  which  we  have  in  manuscript 
form  in  a  handwriting  of  the  late  16th  or  early  17th 
century.2  According  to  the  editor  of  the  play,  Professor 
J.  C.  Collins,  "the  dramatist  has  followed  his  original 
very  closely,  his  only  important  deviations  from  it 
being  these :  he  has  substituted  King  Edward  for  King 
Richard,  and  King  James  of  Scotland  for  the  Earl  of 
Leicester:  he  has  introduced  a  war  between  England 
and  Scotland  and  the  episode  of  Jane  a'  Barley:  he 
has  not  identified  Grime  with  the  Justice  before  whom 
Bonfield  and  Kendall  are  taken:  and  he  has  not  repre- 
sented Robin  Hood  as  being  rewarded  by  the  King."3 
These  deviations  make  strange  history.  To  represent 
King  Edward,  King  James,  and  Robin  Hood  as  con- 
temporaries is  certainly  worthy  of  the  ballad  muse. 
But  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  really  very  little  in  the 
play  that  reminds  one  of  actual  traditional  balladry. 
However,  there  is  one  speech  by  Bettris,  that  suggests 
by  its  form  that  it  was  taken  directly  from  some  lost 
ballad  of  George  a'  Green: 

1 —  Elizabethan  Drama,  I,  283. 

2 —  Cf.  Collins,  II,  164.  He  quotes  important  passages.  He  also 
mentions  another  prose  history,  printed  in  1632,  that  is  not  the 
source  of  the  play.  The  prose  romance  on  which  the  play  is 
founded  was  printed  in  modern  orthography,  by  Thomas  in  his 
Early  English  Eomances.  Cf.  the  new  enlarged  reprint  by  Bout- 
ledge,  n.d,  557  ff. 

3 —  R.  Green,  Plays  and  Poems,  II,  167. 


214 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


I  care  not  for  Earle,  nor  yet  for  Knight, 

Nor  Baron  that  is  so  bold; 
For  George  a'  Green,  the  merrie  pinner, 

He  hath  my  heart  in  hold.1 

If  this  is  not  from  a  ballad,  I  am  much  deceived;  and 
there  may  be  other  lines  or  passages  in  the  play  from  a 
like  source,  that  have  escaped  me. 

There  are  still  two  other  plays  about  Robin  Hood  that 
must  be  treated.2  They  belong,  however,  strictly  to- 
gether. In  fact,  there,  are  several  indications  that  point 
to  their  being  but  an  expansion  of  a  single  earlier  pro- 
duction. The  versatile  Anthony  Munday  is  credited 
with  having  written  the  Downfall  of  Robert  Earl  of 
Huntington,  though  Chettle  "mended"  it;  and  Munday 
and  Henry  Chettle  together  are  supposed  to  have  writ- 
ten the  second  part  of  the  play,  The  Death  of  Robert 
Earl  of  Huntington.  It  seems  to  me  probable  that  most 
of  the  material  in  the  first  part  and  much  of  that  of  the 
second  as  far  as  the  death  of  the  Earl,  originally  be- 
longed to  a  single  play  by  Munday  and  Chettle.3  This 
was  later  expanded  by  Chettle  or  by  Munday  and  Chettle. 
There  is  a  decided  break  in  the  continuity  in  the  second 
part.  Up  to  just  after  the  death  of  Robert,  which  is  not 
far  into  the  second  play,  the  material  links  closely  in 


1—  Collins'  edition,  Sc.  IV,  11.  234-237,  p.  189. 

2 —  Eobin  Hood  is  said  to  act  a  minor  role  in  the  anonymous 
play,  11  Look  About  You,  a  sprightly  comedy  of  disguises  dealing 
on  its  historical  side  with  dissensions  between  Henry  I  and  his 
three  sons."  Cf.  Schelling,  Elizabethan  Drama,  I,  283.  I  have  not 
seen  the  piece.  Several  plays  are  based  more  or  less  on  stall- 
ballads.  Cf.  Chettle  and  Day's  Blind  Beggar  of  Bednal  Green, 
The  Famous  History  of  Captain  Stukely,  etc.  It  will  be  recog- 
nized that  none  of  this  dramatic  material  throws  much  light  on  the 
history  of  balladry. 

3 —  Both  parts  are  published  in  vol.  VIII,  of  W.  C.  Hazlitt's 
issue  of  Dodsley's  Old  English  Plays,  4th  edition,  London,  1874, 
pp.  93  ff.  and  pp.  209  ff.  There  is  a  slight  introduction  to  each 
part. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


215 


every  respect  with  that  of  the  first.  Then  comes  a 
change.  There  is  not  only  a  shift  in  time,  in  characters, 
in  method  of  treatment,  there  is  not  only  a  new  dumb 
show  exhibited,  but  the  Friar  tells  the  audience  that  the 
play  is  over  with.1   He  is  interrupted  by  Chester : 

Nay,  Friar,  at  the  request  of  thy  kind  friend 
Let  not  thy  piay  too  soon  be  at  an  end. 
Though  Eobin  Hood  be  dead,  his  yeomen  gone,    .  . 
Yet  know  full  well,  to  please  this  company, 
We  mean  to  end  Matilda's  tragedy.2 

In  so  far  as  we  are  concerned,  it  would  have  been  as 
well  if  Chester  had  not  spoken.  The  story  of  the  law- 
less pursuit  of  the  chaste  Matilda  by  King  John  is  very 
far  removed  from  traditional  balladry.  We  may  limit 
ourselves,  therefore,  to  the  preceding  material.  This 
is  difficult  to  handle.  Just  as  in  the  case  of  Edward  I, 
the  play  seems  to  be^a  work  of  shreds  and  patches.  It 
is  supposed  to  be  a  rehearsal  of  an  entertainment  to  be 
given  before  Henry  VIII,  by  Master  Skelton,  Sir  John 
Eltham,  and  others.  Sir  Thomas  Mantle  plays  the  lead- 
ing role  of  Robert  Earl  of  Huntington,  Eltham  and 
Skelton  take  the  parts  of  Little  John  and  Friar  Tuckr 
and  "little  Tracy"  that  of  Matilda,  daughter  of  the 
good  Fitzwater.  These  very  names  may  show  that  the 
Robin  Hood  material  is  very  freely  treated.  The  hero* 
is  the  Earl  of  Huntington,  who  is  banished  by  the; 
machinations  of  his  enemies,  particularly  an  uncle,  Gil- 
bert Hood,  the  relentless  prior  of  St.  Mary's  of  York. 
The  time  of  the  action  is  in  the  reign  of  Richard  I,  just 


1 —  Also  at  the  end  of  Act  IV  of  the  Downfall,  Skelton  outlines 
the  rest  of  the  play  for  the  audience.  It  is  to  be  the  death  of 
Eobin  Hood,  which  till  they  see  they  are  to  sit  patiently.  (Dodsley, 
p.  185.)  It  is  possible  that  the  original  play  had  two  short  parts 
acted  together. 

2—  Dodsley,  p.  249. 


216 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


as  the  king  is  returning  from  his  captivity  in  Austria. 
Robert,  being  banished,  escapes  with  Matilda.  He  is 
joined  by  friends,  and  the  party  rescue  Scarlet  and 
Scathlock,  who  are  about  to  be  executed.  These  young 
fellows,  they  learn,  have  been  successful  outlaws  at 
Barnsdale  for  seven  years.1  This  suggests  a  plan  to  the 
Earl.  In  Sherwood  Forest  he  and  his  followers  will 
also  live  as  outlaws  until  the  return  of  Richard.  Dur- 
ing that  time  they  are  to  be  like  simple  yeomen :  he  to 
be  plain  Robin  Hood,  and  his  betrothed  lady,  Maid 
Marian.  Little  John  draws  up  a  list  of  articles  for 
their  government,  to  which,  all  agree.  Such,  according 
to  the  play,  is  the  origin  of  the  outlaw  band.2  The  plot 
is  complicated  by  the  Queen  mother  loving  sinfully  the 
Earl  Robert,  as  Prince  John  does  Matilda;  but  that  is 
quite  apart  from  ballad  influence. 

Thus  far  all  questions  appear  simple  enough,  and  it 
might  seem  easy  to  evaluate  the  balladry  in  the  play. 
But  we  have  not  yet  touched  upon  the  most  difficult  and 
most  interesting  feature.  That  is  concerned  with  the 
relation  of  Skelton  to  the  sources  of  the  material.  It  is 
to  be  remembered  that  he  takes  the  part  of  the  Friar, 
and  a  large  part  of  his  speeches  is  made  up  of  the  short 
^'ribble-rabble  rhymes  Skeltonical, "  as  Eltham  calls 
them.  These  rimes,  if  by  Munday,  are  surprisingly 
good  imitations  and  show  a  close  stud}^  of  the  original. 
In  one  speech,  also,  it  is  suggested  plainly  that  the  poet 
laureate  was  a  good  authority  on  Robin  Hood  matters. 
Skelton  himself  tells  the  audience  in  a  parody  of  a  well- 

1 —  Dodsley,  p.  141.  The  rescue  is  somewhat  like  that  told  in  the 
ballad  of  ''Bobin  Hood  Bescuing  three  Squires."  Child,  No.  140. 
There  is  a  somewhat  extended  reference  to  various  ballad  heroes 
and  their  helpers  in  Act  III,  Sc.  II,  Dodsley,  pp.  151-2.  The  ac- 
count is  confused.    It  surely  does  not  represent  good  tradition. 

2—  Cf.  especially  Act  III,  Sc.  2. 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


217 


known  proverb:  "...  Many  talk  of  Robin  Hood,  that 
never  shot  in  his  bow.  But  Skelton  writes  of  Robin 
Hood  what  he  doth  truly  know."1  It  is  to  be  added  that 
some  short  passages  in  Edward  I  are  almost  Skeltoni- 
eal.2  These  various  bits  of  evidence  suggest  that  Skel- 
ton may  have  written  a  lost  interlude  about  Robin  Hood, 
or  that  at  least  his  work  has  some  close  connection 
with  the  ballad  outlaw7  that  it  is  impossible  now  to 
determine. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  first  part  Eltham  and  Skelton 
talk  over  the  chances  of  their  play  for  success. 

Eltham. 

Methinks,  I  see  no  jests  of  Robin  Hood, 

No  merry  morrices  of  Friar  Tuck, 

No  pleasant  skippings  up  and  down  the  wood, 

No  hunting  songs,  no  coursing  of  the  buck. 

Pray  God  this  play  of  ours  may  have  good  luck, 

And  the  king's  majesty  mislike  it  not. 

Friar. 

And  if  he  do,  what  can  we  do  to  that? 

I  promis'd  him  a  play  of  Robin  Hood, 

His  honorable  life  in  merry  Sherwood. 

His  majesty  himself  survey 'd  the  plot, 

And  bad  me  boldly  write  it :  it  was  good. 

For  merry  jests  they  have  been  shown  before, 

As  how  the  friar  fell  into  the  well 

For  love  of  Jenny,  that  fair  bonny  belle ; 

How  Greenleaf  robb'd  the  Shrieve  of  Nottingham, 

And  other  mirthful  matter  full  of  game.3 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  in  the  bona  fide  works  of  Skelton 
there  is  a  reference  to  "The  Friar  in  the  Well."4  It 


1 —  Act  I,  Sc.  1,  Dodsley,  p.  109.  The  proverb's  second  line 
reads,  "  And  many  talk  of  Little  John  that  never  did  him  know. " 
Cf .  the  note. 

2—  See  chapt.  6,  p.  211. 

3—  Act  IV,  Sc.  2,  pp.  184-5.  Dodsley. 

4—  Colyn  Cloute,  v.  879  ff.    Cf.  Child,  No.  276. 


218  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


is  to  be  added  that  in  our  play  the  Friar  acts  rather 
free  with  a  certain  Jenny,  the  sweetheart  of  Much. 
The  well  episode  would  not  have  been  out  of  harmony 
with  other  things  in  the  play's  text.  The  quoted  pas- 
sage not  only  serves  to  show  how  much  semi-popular 
dramatic  material  we  have  lost, — for  Eltham  tells  what 
might  be  expected  in  Robin  Hood  plays,  and  Skelton 
mentions  specific  pieces  that  had  been  " shown"  or 
dramatized, — but  the  passage  also  makes  clear  how  all- 
absorptive  the  cycle  was  in  drawing  to  itself  alien 
material.  Through  Friar  Tuck,  even  the  "Friar  in  the 
Well"  is  joined  to  the  cycle. 

In  the  play  there  is  not  much  actual  quotation  from: 
the  ballads.  There  is  a  Robin  Hood  song  at  the  Earl's, 
death  entirely  unpopular  in  manner,1  and  aside  from 
this  there  are  but  two  perhaps  loose  quotations  from. 
' '  The  Jolly  Pinder  of  Wakefield. ' '  They  do  not  exactly 
agree  with  the  preserved  versions,  but  it  is  possible- 
they  represent  as  good  tradition.   One  is, 

0  there  dwell eth  a  jolly  pinder, 
At  Wakefield,  all  on  a  green.2 

The  other  is 

At  Michaelmas  cometh  my  covenant  out, 

My  master  gives  me  my  fee : 
Then,  Robin,  I'll  wear  thy  Kendal  green 

And  wend  to  the  greenwood  with  thee.3 

And  with  these  quotations  we  may  close  the  chapter. 

1—  Dodsley,  p.  249. 

2—  Spoken  by  Much,  Dodsley,  p.  232. 

3 —  Spoken  by  Prince  John,  Dodsley,  p.  195. 


II 

Lessing's  Laocoon 


PREFACE 


Many  of  the  objections  that  this  monograph  urges 
against  the  theories  of  the  Laocoon  first  occurred  to  me 
in  the  spring  of  1901  while  I  was  a  graduate  student  at 
the  University  of  Michigan.  It  was  not  until  the  next 
year,  however,  while  a  fellow  in  English  at  Yale,  that 
the  ideas  were  put  int6  written  form.  They  were  at 
that  time  embodied  in  a  paper  read  before  the  Yale 
English  Club.  Since  then  I  have  given  considerable 
attention  to  the  subject,  have  enlarged  the  scope  of  the 
inquiry,  and  have  collected  much  new  material. 

In  spite  of  my  apparently  hostile  attitude  to  the 
Laocoon  in  the  beginning  of  the  paper,  the  ultimate  pur- 
pose of  my  work  has  been  much  the  same  as  Lessing's. 
It  is  an  attempt  to  get  past  the  mere  externals  of  criti- 
cism to  the  fundamental  principle,  and  by  means 
of  this  principle  to  discover  the  aesthetic  and  linguistic 
limitations  of  descriptive  literature.  In  carrying  out 
this  programme  I  hope  that  everywhere  I  have  used 
scientific  caution.  Though  some  of  the  theories  ad- 
vanced are  new,  I  have  tried  to  base  them  on  adequate 
psychological  foundations.  If  I  have  made  mistakes  I 
shall  be  glad  to  rectify  them. 

I  take  pleasure  in  thanking  all  who  have  assisted  me 
in  preparing  this  monograph.  My  greatest  obligation 
is  to  Professor  Scott,  who  not  only  first  interested  me 
in  the  study  of  rhetorical  problems,  but  who  has  ever 
since  kept  alive  this  interest  with  frequent  encourage- 
ment, and  who  now,  in  editing  this  work,  has  done  me 
the  great  service  of  pruning  it  of  much  extraneous 


221 


222 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


material.  I  also  wish  to  thank  Professors  Pillsbury, 
Rebec,  and  Hempl  of  the  University  of  Michigan,  Pro- 
fessor Cook  of  Yale,  and  the  members  of  the  English 
department  in  the  University  of  Kansas. 

P.  E.  B. 

Cambridge,  Mass. 


I 


Lessing's  Laocoon 

BOSANQUET,  in  his  History  of  ^Esthetic,  has 
pointed  out  a  very  curious  and  surprising  fact 
with  reference  to  the  occasion  that  brought 
forth  Lessing's  Laocoon.   He  says: 

"The  occasion  of  the  Laocoon  was  such  as  to  show 
with  a  force  amounting  to  irony,  the  superior  impor- 
tance of  ideas  as  compared  with  particular  facts. 
Winekelmann  had  said,  in  his  treatise  On  the  Imitation 
of  Greek  Works  of  Painting  and  Sculpture,  that  the  ex- 
pression in  Greek  statues  always  revealed  a  great  and 
composed  soul,  and  that  this  was  illustrated  by  the 
famous  Laocoon  group,  in  which  Laocoon 's  features 
expressed  no  such  extremity  of  suffering  as  would  be 
realistically  in  accordance  with  the  situation,  and  more 
particularly,  did  not  indicate  him  to  be  crying  out,  as 
Virgil  describes  him.  Lessing,  aroused,  as  he  admits, 
by  the  implied  censure  on  Yirgil,  maintains  that  the 
•absence  of  agonized  expression  in  Laocoon 's  features, 
and  of  all  sign  of  outcry — which  he  completely  accepts 
as  a  fact — is  to  be  accounted  for  not  by  the  demands  of 
Greek  character,  but  by  the  laws  of  Greek  sculpture; 
in  other  words,  that  portrayal  of  extreme  suffering  and 
its  expression,  legitimate  in  poetry,  was  prohibited  by 
the  law  and  aim  of  beauty,  which  he  alleged  to  be 
supreme  in  formative  art. 

1 '  Now  the  tendency  oP  skilled  criticism  ever  since 
Lessing's  day  has  been  to  deny  the  alleged  fact  that 
Laocoon  is  represented  in  the  marble  group  as  silent  or 
nearly  so,  and  with  an  expression  far  removed  from  that 
of  extreme  bodily  suffering.  The  truth  appears  to  be 
that  the  group  is  a  work  of  the  Rhodian  school,  which 
retained  little  of  the  great  Greek  style  and  was  chiefly 
distinguished  by  technical  skill  and  forcible  presenta- 
tion of  ideas.    The  expression  of  pain  is  violent,  and 


223 


224 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  abstinence  from  crying  out  is  exceedingly  doubtful. 
It  is  remarkable  that  the  observation  with  reference  to 
which  such  influential  theories  were  propounded,  should 
be  of  questionable  accuracy."1 

This  is  indeed  remarkable,  but  these  later  opinions 
concerning  the  Lacoon  group  do  not  at  all  affect  the 
validity  of  Lessing's  theory  as  a  theory  of  perfect  art. 
For,  according  to  Bosanquet,  not  only  is  it  held  that 
the  priest,  Lacoon,  utters  cries,  but  it  is  also  held  that 
this  group  belongs  to  an  inferior  period  of  sculpture ; 
the  one  conclusion,  therefore,  neutralizes  the  other,  and 
perhaps  the  only  effect  of  the  investigations  is  to  throw 
the  Laocoon  group  out  of  the  discussion.  Lessing's 
theory  may  still  be  correct,  though  this  group  can  no 
longer  be  used  as  an  illustration  of  it. 

But  the  point  just  made  by  Bosanquet  is  not  the 
only  surprising  thing  that  has  been  noticed  about  the 
Laocoon.  The  book  has  two  titles :  Laokoon;  oder, 
TJeber  die  Grenzen  der  Malerei  und  Poesie.2  The  first  of 
these  titles  would  lead  us  to  expect  a  work  on  sculpture, 
while  the  second  one  tells  us  that  it  is  to  deal  with 
painting  and  poetry.  That  is,  these  titles  betray  an  in- 
consistency,— and  one  that  is  also  to  be  found  within 
the  pages  of  the  book.  It  is  due  to  the  fact  that  Lessing 
has  not  distinguished  between  the  different  formative 
arts.  To  him,  apparently,  the  same  laws  apply  to 
painting  that  apply  to  sculpture.  He  has  thus  made 
the  same  mistake  in  his  treatment  of  the  formative  arts 
that  he  criticises  other  persons  for  making  in  their 
treatment  of  the  limits  of  painting  and  poetry.  This 
b^ing  true,  the  very  argument  that  he  develops  regard- 
ing this  latter  subject  may  be  turned  back  against  him- 


1 —  B.  Bosanquet,  A  History  of  Aesthetic,  pp.  221-2. 

2—  Laocoon  ;  or,  Concerning  the  Limits  of  Painting  and  Poetry. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


225 


self  to  discredit  what  lie  says  concerning  the  formative 
arcs.  But  this  second  discrepancy  is  again  one  upon 
which  it  is  unnecessary  to  dwell.  It  is  admitted  that 
some  of  the  things  that  Lessing  said  about  formative 
art  are  not  true.  His  defenders  tell  us  that  "art" 
after  all  was  not  his  forte.  It  is  to  the  science  of  liter- 
ary criticism  that  the  Laocoon  makes  its  most  brilliant 
contribution. 

We  may  therefore  narrow  our  inquiry  to  the  single 
question:  What  is  the  value  of  Lessing 's  contribution 
to  the  theory  of  literary  art?  or  more  specifically,  How 
far  was  he  right  in  his  delimitation  of  descriptive  lit- 
erature? Let  us  first  take  a  rapid  survey  of  his  argu- 
ment. 

We  have  already  learned,  in  the  passage  from  Bosan- 
quet,  what  occasioned  the  Laocoon.  It  was  the  fact  that 
Winckelmann  had  tried  to  prescribe  the  same  laws  for 
the  poet  that  he  had  given  to  the  sculptor.  Lessing  saw 
very  clearly  that  this  would  not  do.  The  priest  made 
no  outcry,  not  because  of  the  demands  of  Greek  charac- 
ter, but  because  of  the  laws  of  Greek  sculpture.  Lessing 
pointed  out  more  than  one  example  in  which  Greek 
poets  had  made  their  heroes  cry  out  and  show  other 
evidences  of  violent  pain  or  grief.  He  showed  that 
"art"  has  certain  limitations;  for  instance,  since  in  any 
one  representation  it  can  present  its  object  from  but  one 
point  of  view,  the  object  can  be  shown  in  but  a  single 
stage  of  development,  and  this  stage  remains  before  us 
as  long  as  we  view  the  representation.  It  was  such 
limitations  as  these  that  probably  influenced  the  artist 
in  his  treatment  of  the  Laocoon  group.  Scarcely  any  of 
these  limitations,  however,  could  influence  the  work  of 
the  poet.  Poetry  does  not  appeal  to  the  eye  alone. 
Furthermore,  nothing  obliges  the  poet  to  concentrate 


226 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


his  picture  into  a  single  moment.  He  can  take  up  every 
action,  if  he  will,  from  its  origin,  and  carry  it  through 
all  possible  changes  to  its  issue.  This  suggested  that 
the  difference  in  the  treatment  of  the  Laocoon  story  by 
the  poet  and  by  the  sculptor  should  be  explained  as 
arising  out  of  a  difference  in  the  media  through  which 
the  representation  is  effected.  But  it  will  not  be  nec- 
essary for  us  to  follow  Lessing's  argument  throughout 
all  the  turns  of  its  sinuous  course.  Suffice  it  to  say  that 
after  much  apparent  wandering  he  is  finally  able  to 
gather  up  all  the  threads  of  his  exposition  into  the 
famous  group  of  arguments  on  the  limits  of  painting 
and  poetry.  The  important  part  that  they  play  in  this 
study,  as  well  as  their  own  interest,  justifies  me  in 
quoting  them  almost  in  full. 
Lessing  says  -1 

"I  will  try  to  prove  my  conclusions  by  starting  from 
first  principles. 

"I  argue  thus.  If  it  be  true  that  painting  employs 
wholly  different  signs  or  means  of  imitation  from  poetry, 
—the  one  using  forms  and  colors  in  space,  the  other 
articulate  sounds  in  time, — and  if  signs  must  unques- 
tionably stand  in  convenient  relation  with  the  thing 
signified,  then  signs  arranged  side  by  side  can  represent 
only  objects  existing  side  by  side,  or  whose  parts  so 
exist,  while  consecutive  signs  can  express  only  objects 
which  succeed  each  other,  or  whose  parts  succeed  each 
other,  in  time. 

"Objects  which  exist  side  by  side,  or  whose  parts  so 
exist,  are  called  bodies.  Consequently  bodies  with  their 
visible  properties  are  the  peculiar  subjects  of  painting. 

"Objects  which  succeed  each  other,  or  whose  parts 
succeed  each  other  in  time,  are  actions.  Consequently 
actions  are  the  peculiar  subjects  of  poetry. 

"All  bodies,  however,  exist  not  only  in  space,  but  also 


I— Laocoon,  XVI;  Translation  by  Ellen  Frothingham,  Boston: 
1887. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


227 


in  time.  They  continue,  and,  at  any  moment  of  their 
continuance,  may  assume  a  different  appearance  and 
stand  in  different  relations.  Every  one  of  these  mo- 
mentary appearances  and  groupings  was  the  result  of 
a  preceding,  may  become  the  cause  of  a  following,  and 
is  therefore  the  centre  of  a  present,  action.  Consequent- 
ly painting  can  imitate  actions  also,  but  only  as  they 
are  suggested  through  forms. 

"  Actions,  on  the  other  hand,  cannot  exist  independ- 
ently, but  must  always  be  joined  to  certain  agents.  In 
so  far  as  those  agents  are  bodies  or  are  regarded  as  such, 
poetry  describes  also  bodies,  but  only  indirectly  through 
actions. 

"Painting,  in  its  coexistent  compositions,  can  use  but 
a  single  moment  of  an  action,  and  must  therefore  choose 
the  most  pregnant  one,  the  one  most  suggestive  of  what 
has  gone  before  and  what  is  to  follow. 

"Poetry,  in  its  progressive  imitations,  can  use  but  a 
single  attribute  of  bodies,  and  must  choose  that  one 
which  gives  the  most  vivid  picture  of  the  body  as  exer- 
cised in  this  particular  action. 

"Hence  the  rule  for  the  employment  of  a  single  de- 
scriptive epithet,  and  the  cause  of  the  rare  occurrence 
of  descriptions  of  physical  objects. 

"I  should  place  less  confidence  in  this  dry  chain  of 
conclusions,  did  I  not  find  them  fully  confirmed  by 
Homer,  or,  rather,  had  they  not  been  first  suggested  to 
me  by  Homer's  method.  These  principles  alone  furnish 
a  key  to  the  noble  style  of  the  Greek,  and  enable  us  to 
pass  just  judgment  on  the  opposite  method  of  many  mod- 
ern poets  who  insist  upon  emulating  the  artist  in  a  point 
where  they  must  of  necessity  remain  inferior  to  him. 

"I  find  that  Homer  paints  nothing  but  progressive 
actions.  All  bodies,  all  separate  objects,  are  painted 
only  as  they  take  part  in  such  actions,  and  generally 
with  a  single  touch.  .  .  .  If  Homer,  for  instance, 
wants  us  to  see  the  chariot  of  Juno,  Hebe  must  put  it 
together  piece  by  piece  before  our  eyes.  .  .  .  When 
Homer  wishes  to  tell  us  how  Agamemnon  was  dressed, 
he  makes  the  king  put  on  every  article  of  raiment  in  our 
presence:  the  soft  tunic,  the  great  mantle,  the  beautiful 


228 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


sandals,  and  the  sword.  When  he  is  thus  fully  equipped 
he  grasps  his  sceptre.  We  see  the  clothes  while  the  poet 
is  describing  the  act  of  dressing.  An  inferior  writer 
would  have  described  the  clothes  down  to  the  minutest 
fringe,  anet  of  the  action  we  should  have  seen  nothing. ' ' 

When  Homer  describes  the  sceptre,  instead  of  pre- 
senting us  with  a  copy  of  it,  he  gives  a  history.  "And 
so  at  last,"  says  Lessing,  "I  know  this  sceptre  better 
than  if  a  painter  should  put  it  before  my  eyes,  or  a 
second  Vulcan  give  it  into  my  hands."  If  it  is  Homer's 
sole  object  to  give  us  a  picture,  he  will  yet  break  this 
up  into  a  sort  of  history  in  order  that  the  coexistent 
parts  may  follow  each  other  in  the  time  order. 

"But,"1  continues  Lessing,  "it  may  be  urged,  the 
signs  employed  in  poetry  not  only  follow  each  other, 
but  are  also  arbitrary;  and,  as  arbitrary  signs,  they  are 
certainly  capable  of  expressing  things  as  they  exist  in 
space," — witness  Homer's  description  of  the  shield  of 
Achilles.  Lessing  says  that  he  will  proceed  to  answer 
this  double  objection — double,  because  a  just  conclusion 
must  hold,  though  unsupported  by  examples,  and  on  the 
other  hand  the  example  of  Homer  has  great  weight  with 
him,  even  when  he  is  unable  to  justify  it  by  rules.  At 
this  point  we  might  expect  him  to  meet  the  first  of  the 
objections  by  denying  that  the  signs  of  language  are 
arbitrary.  This  plain  and  simple  solution  of  the  diffi- 
culty does  not,  however,  occur  to  him.  Accepting  as  a 
fact  the  alleged  arbitrariness  of  language,  he  tries  to 
escape  the  dilemma  by  affirming  that  while  it  is  true 
that  this  property  of  language  does  help  the  prose-writer 
to  make  objects  -plain  and  intelligible,  it  does  not  enable 
the  poet  to  paint,  a  thing  that  the  poet  must  always  aim 
to  do.  Then  he  asks  the  question,  "How  do  we  obtain 
a  clear  idea  of  a  thing  in  space?" 


1 — Laocoon.  XVII. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


229 


He  answers :  ' '  First  we  observe  its  separate  parts,  then 
the  union  of  these  parts,  and  finally  the  whole.  Our 
senses  perform  these  various  operations  with  such  amaz- 
ing rapidity  as  to  make  them  seem  but  one.  This  rapid- 
ity is  absolutely  essential  to  our  obtaining  an  idea  of 
the  whole,  which  is  nothing  more  than  the  result  of  the 
conception  of  the  parts  and  of  their  connection  with 
each  other.  Suppose  now  that  the  poet  should  lead  us 
in  proper  order  from  one  part  of  the  object  to  the  other ; 
suppose  he  should  succeed  in  making  the  connection  of 
these  parts  perfectly  clear  to  us:  how  much  time  will 
he  have  consumed? 

' '  The  details,  which  the  eye  takes  in  at  a  glance,  he 
enumerates  slowly  one  by  one,  and  it  often  happens  that, 
by  the  time  he  has  brought  us  to  the  last,  we  have  for- 
gotten the  first.  Yet  from  these  details  we  are  to  form 
a  picture.  When  we  look  at  an  object  the  various  parts 
are  always  present  to  the  eye.  It  can  run  over  them 
again  and  again.  The  ear,  however,  loses  the  details  it 
has  heard,  unless  memory  retain  them.  And  if  they  be 
so  retained,  what  pains  and  effort  it  costs  to  recall  their 
impressions  in  the  proper  order  and  with  even  the  mod- 
erate degree  of  rapidity  necessary  to  the  obtaining  of  a 
tolerable  idea  of  the  whole."  Lessing  then  quotes  two 
stanzas  from  Yon  Haller's  Alps  to  illustrate  the  point 
that  he  has  just  been  making. 

We  may  neglect  for  our  purpose  that  which  follows 
in  the  next  few  pages  of  his  book,  but  in  his  statements 
with  reference  to  the  shield  of  Achilles  we  take  up  again 
the  main  thread  of  the  argument.   He  begins  thus  i1 

■ 1  But  I  am  lingering  over  trifles  and  seem  to  have  for- 
gotten the  shield  of  Achilles,  that  famous  picture,  which 
more  than  all  else  caused  Homer  to  be  regarded  among 

1 — Laocoon,  XVIII. 


230  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 

the  ancients  as  a  master  of  painting.  But  surely  a  shield, 
it  may  be  said,  is  a  single  corporeal  object,  the  descrip- 
tion of  which  according  to  its  coexistent  parts  cannot 
come  within  the  province  of  poetry.  Yet  this  shield,  its 
material,  its  form,  and  all  the  figures  which  occupied  its 
enormous  surface,  Homer  has  described,  in  more  than  a 
hundred  magnificent  lines,  so  circumstantially  and  pre- 
cisely that  modern  artists  have  found  no  difficulty  in 
making  a  drawing  of  it  exact  in  every  detail." 

Lessing's  answer  to  this  objection  is  that  "Homer  does 
not  paint  the  shield  finished,  but  in  the  process  of  crea- 
tion. Here  again  he  has  made  use  of  the  happy  device 
of  substituting  progression  for  coexistence,  and  thus  con- 
verted the  tiresome  description  of  an  object  into  a 
graphic  picture  of  an  action.  We  see  not  the  shield, 
but  the  divine  master-workman  employed  upon  it.  .  .  . 
Not  till  the  whole  is  finished  do  we  lose  sight  of  him. 
At  last  it  is  done ;  and  we  wonder  at  the  work,  but  with 
the  believing  wonder  of  an  eye-witness  who  has  seen  it 
a-making.  The  same  cannot  be  said  of  the  shield  of 
iEneas  in  Virgil. ' ' 

After  reading  Lessing's  glowing  account  of  Homer's 
description  we  ought  certainly  to  have  no  doubt  about 
the  effect  that  the  work  should  have  upon  us.  It  seems 
clear  that  this  description  of  the  shield  must  perform 
the  miracle  denied  to  the  enumerative  description.  But 
a  few  pages  farther  on  Lessing  discloses  the  fact  that, 
after  all,  Homer's  description  is  not  so  clear  to  every- 
body as  we  might  suppose.  Since  we  shall  have  occasion 
in  a  later  part  of  this  study  to  mention  objections  that 
he  admits  have  been  urged  against  it,  it  will  not  be 
necessary  for  us  to  quote  them  here.  Nor  will  it  be 
necessary  at  present  to  quote  other  passages  from  the 
Laocoon.  We  have  now  before  us  enough  material  to 
begin  the  discussion.  Let  us  take  up  the  parts  we  have 
just  presented  and  subject  them  to  a  careful  criticism. 


II 


Homer's  Descriptions 

IN  the  extracts  just  quoted,  it  will  be  recalled  that 
Lessing  has  admitted  that  the  example  of  Homer 
has  great  weight  with  him  even  when  not  justi- 
fied by  argument.  He  has  told  us  that  he  would  place 
less  confidence  in  his  dry  chain  of  conclusions,  did  he 
not  find  them  fully  confirmed  by  Homer,  or,  rather, 
had  they  not  been  first  suggested  to  him  by  Homer's 
method.  These  principles  alone,  he  says,  furnish  a  key 
to  the  noble  style  of  the  Greek.  Homer  paints  nothing 
but  progressive  actions.  All  bodies,  all  separate  objects, 
are  painted  only  as  they  take  part  in  such  actions,  and 
generally  with  a  single  touch.  It  will  be  remembered 
also  that  Lessing  draws  practically  all  his  examples  of 
good  descriptions  from  Homer.  Consequently  before 
we  shall  be  in  a  position  to  discuss  Lessing 's  theory 
critically,  we  must  go  to  his  great  source,  and  learn,  at 
first  hand,  the  facts  concerning  Homer's  descriptions. 

I  think  that  Lessing  was  very  fortunate  in  choosing 
Homer  as  model  and  guide.  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey 
were  wrought  into  their  present  form  under  peculiar 
conditions.  They  were  recited,  and  those  who  did  the  re- 
citing made  this  work  their  profession.  The  bards  spoke 
the  poems  time  and  time  again  with  an  audience  before 
them.  They  could  therefore  tell  from  daily  experience 
what  was  interesting  and  what  was  not.  If  they  found 
any  weak  or  ineffective  parts,  it  is  only  natural  to  sup- 
pose that  they  would  either  drop  them  or  (if  they  could) 
improve  upon  them.  So  I  think  we  may  safely  conclude 
that  from  Homer's  poems  the  ineffective  descriptions 


231 


232 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


have  been  eliminated,  and  those  that  we  find  there  have 
been  proved  thoroughly  effective.  But  in  saying  this 
I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  any  type  of  description  not 
found  in  Homer  is  probably  ineffective.  These  poems 
were  recited,  and  recited  from  memory,  hence  they  had 
to  be  of  a  form  easy  for  the  listener  to  understand  and 
easy  for  the  bard  to  remember.  From  this  we  might 
expect  more  simplicity  and  directness,  a  more  frequent 
use  of  repetition  and  of  fixed  epithets,  than  in  works 
written  to  meet  certain  other  conditions.  Nevertheless, 
Homer  does  not  appear  to  us  very  restricted,  and  when 
Lessing  makes  the  unqualified  assertion  that  all  of  Ho- 
mer's descriptions  are  progressive,  that  none  of  them  are 
presented  as  static  pictures,  we  must  confess  the  Ger- 
man critic  appears  rather  sweeping.  Can  his  statement 
be  justified? 

Perhaps  the  first  possible  exception  is  the  detailed 
description  of  Thersites  in  Book  II  of  the  Iliad.  I  shall 
quote  it  in  part,  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  it  is 
a  description  by  enumeration.  Homer  says:  "And  he 
was  ill-favoured  beyond  all  men  that  came  to  Ilios. 
Bandy-legged  was  he,  and  lame  of  one  foot,  and  his 
two  shoulders  rounded,  arched  down  upon  his  chest; 
and  over  them  his  head  was  warped,  and  a  scanty 
stubble  sprouted  on  it."1  Lessing  himself  mentions  this 
example  in  his  treatment  of  the  ugly  in  art.  The  point 
he  there  makes  is  that  the  impression  of  ugliness  pro- 
duced by  the  description  is  softened  by  the  details 
being  given  one  after  the  other.  That  is  a  point  we 
need  not  discuss  for  the  present.  But  there  is  one 
question  about  the  description  that  we  must  not  fail 
to  ask.    It  is  a  question  that  Lessing  did  not  answer 


1 — Iliad;  Book  II.    Lang,  Leaf,  and  Myers'  translation,  p.  28. 


LESSING 'S  LAOCOON 


233 


nor  even  try  to,  although  it  was  essential  to  his  argu- 
ment, and  that  is,  Does  this  description  of  Thersites 
give  us  a  unified  picture?  For  myself,  I  will  say  that 
this  description  as  given  in  the  Iliad  makes  one  unified 
impression  on  me,  though  the  details  are  given  one 
-after  the  other.  Several  others  with  whom  I  have 
spoken,  acknowledge  that  my  experience  is  also  theirs. 
Here  then,  in  a  passage  from  Homer,  we  have  some  rea- 
son to  suppose,  is  an  exception  to  Lessing 's  theory. 
Here  we  have  a  description,  told  by  enumeration,  which 
nevertheless  produces  a  unified  impression.  Is  this  the 
only  exception  in  Homer  ? 

Lessing  has  had  much  to  say  about  the  shield  of 
Achilles  in  the  Iliad,  Book  XVIII.  In  fact,  he  lays  more 
stress  upon  this  particular  description  than  on  any 
other.  So  let  us  give  it  a  due  amount  of  attention.  It 
is  curious  to  note  that  in  spite  of  one  statement  to  the 
contrary,  Lessing  admits  that  there  is  no  unanimity  of 
opinion  as  to  what  this  shield  must  have  looked  like  as 
a  whole.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Homer's  method 
was  to  tell  us  how  this  shield  was  constructed  and 
adorned.  We  see  the  whole  process,  step  by  step. 
Lessing  thinks  this  an  admirable  illustration  of  his 
theory.  When  Homer  finishes  he  thinks  we  know  all 
about  the  shield, — and  yet,  alas,  there  have  been  people, 
he  admits,  who  have  questioned  the  very  possibility  of 
such  a  shield.  The  stoutest  defenders  of  Homer's  lit- 
erary art  do  not  seem  at  all  agreed  as  to  its  appearance. 
Putting  aside  the  problem,  How  is  it  possible  to  bring 
all  this  wealth  of  ornament  into  one  picture  in  the 
mind's  eye?  the  question  has  even  been  asked,  How  is 
it  conceivable  that  all  of  these  details  should  be  pre- 
sented on  a  single  shield?  There  have  been  several 
hypotheses.     Lessing  very  ingeniously  says  that  he 


234 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


thinks  the  pictures  were  divided  between  the  front  and 
the  back  of  the  shield.  This  divergence  of  opinion  sug- 
gests the  point  that  I  now  wish  to  present.  Homer  has 
told  us  all  about  the  shield,  except  how  it  looks  as  a 
whole ;  that,  he  has  not  tried  to  do.  Apparently  Lessing 
has  not  thought  of  this,  though  it  is  essential  if  the  exam- 
ple of  the  shield  is  to  illustrate  his  argument.  He  has 
told  us  that  we  cannot  describe  successfully  by  the 
method  of  enumeration — the  method  Homer  used  in  the 
description  of  Thersites— but  that  we  can  describe  pro- 
gressively. But  now,  the  progressive  description  of 
the  shield  of  Achilles  does  not  give  me,  at  least,  as 
unified  a  picture  as  the  enumerative  description  of 
Thersites — in  fact,  it  does  not  give  me  any  unified  pic- 
ture at  all,  and  Lessing  admits  that  I  am  not  the  only 
one  affected  in  that  way.  It  would  seem,  then,  as  far 
as  examples  are  concerned,  that  Lessing  has  failed  in 
both  instances.  With  reference  to  the  shield  of 
Achilles  he  has  confused  knowing  with  seeing.  This 
same  confusion  is  further  illustrated  by  his  statements 
about  the  sceptre  of  Agamemnon.  In  the  description 
of  the  latter  there  is  to  be  found  hardly  a  word  to  sug- 
gest the  actual  appearance  of  the  object.  Homer 
merely  tell  us  the  various  gods  and  men  who  have 
owned  it.  He  says  :  "  Then  stood  up  lord  Agamemnon 
bearing  his  sceptre,  that  Hephaistos  had  wrought  curi- 
ously. Hephaistos  gave  it  to  king  Zeus,  son  of  Kronos, 
and  then  Zeus  gave  it  to  the  messenger-god  the  slayer 
of  Argus,  and  king  Hermes  gave  it  to  Pelops  the  char- 
ioteer, and  Pelops  again  gave  it  to  Atreus  shepherd  of 
the  host.  And  Atreus  dying  left  it  to  Thyestes  rich  in 
flocks,  and  Thyestes  in  his  turn  left  it  to  Agamemnon 
to  bear,  that  over  many  islands  and  all  Argos  he  should 


LESSING  'S  LAOCOON 


be  lord."1  Yet  Lessing  says  with  reference  to  it:  ''At 
last  I  know  this  sceptre  better  than  if  a  painter  should 
put  it  before  my  Syes,  or  a  second  Vulcan  give  it  into 
my  hands."  But  such  a  statement  is  not  to  the  point. 
There  is  no  question  that  Homer's  account  does  add 
dignity  and  interest  to  the  sceptre.  We  obtain  much 
information  about  it  just  as  we  did  about  the  shield; 
but  not  for  that  reason  have  we  the  right  to  say  that 
we  know  it  visually.  Nothing  has  been  said  about  how 
the  sceptre  looks. 

But  now  let  us  continue  our  study  of  the  shield  of 
Achilles.  The  shield  is  adorned  by  numerous  pictures, 
the  descriptions  of  which  Homer  has  given  us  in  some 
detail.  How  are  these  scenes  presented  to  us?  Is  the 
emphasis  thrown  upon  the  process  of  the  making  ?  Are 
we  more  conscious  of  Vulcan  in  his  workshop  than  we 
are  of  the  scenes  themselves  ?  Do  we  find  any  enumera- 
tion of  details,  and  if  so  do  we  obtain  therefrom  com- 
pleted pictures?  Before  trying  to  answer  such  ques- 
tions, let  us  read  one  or  two  of  the  descriptions.  We 
may  begin  with  the  account  of  the  ploughers  in  the 
field.    Homer  says : 

"Furthermore  he  set  in  the  shield  a  soft  fresh- 
ploughed  field,  rich  tilth  and  wide,  the  third  time- 
ploughed;  and  many  ploughers  therein  drave  their 
yokes  to  and  fro  as  they  wheeled  about.  Whensoever 
they  came  to  the  boundary  of  the  field  and  turned,  then 
would  a  man  come  to  each  and  give  into  his  hands  a 
goblet  of  sweet  wine,  while  others  would  be  turning 
back  along  the  furrows,  fain  to  reach  the  boundary  of 
the  deep  tilth.  And  the  field  grew  black  behind  and 
seemed  as  it  were  a  ploughing,  albeit  of  gold,  for  this 
was  the  great  marvel  of  the  work. 

"Furthermore  he  set  therein  the  demesne  land  of  a 


1 — Iliad,  Book  II.    Lang,  Leaf,  and  Myers'  translation,  p.  24. 


236 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


king,  where  hinds  were  reaping  with  sharp  sickles  in 
their  hands.  Some  armfuls  along  the  swathe  were  fall- 
ing in  rows  to  the  earth,  whilst  others^  the  sheaf-binders 
were  binding  in  twisted  bands  of  straw.  Three  sheaf- 
binders  stood  over  them,  while  behind  boys  gathering 
corn  and  bearing  it  in  their  arms  gave  it  constantly  to 
the  binders;  and  among  them  the  king  in  silence  was 
standing  at  the  swathe  with  his  staff,  rejoicing  in  his 
heart.  And  henchmen  apart  beneath  an  oak  were  mak- 
ing ready  a  feast,  and  preparing  a  great  ox  they  had 
sacrificed ;  while  the  women  were  strewing  much  white 
barley  to  be  supper  for  the  hinds. ' n 

These  two  descriptions  have  a  very  different  effect 
upon  me  from  the  account  of  Agamemnon's  sceptre,  a 
very  different  effect  also  from  that  of  the  whole  descrip- 
tion of  the  shield.  I  can  see  the  ploughed  field  and 
the  men  and  oxen  at  work  in  it — all  in  one  picture. 
I  can  see  the  demesne  land  in  one  picture,  too,  the  sev- 
eral parts  coexisting  side  by  side.  The  fact  that  the 
details  are  given  one  after  the  other  does  not  inter- 
fere with  my  conception  of  their  co-existence,  and  in 
these  descriptions  I  am  not  helped  by  the  knowledge 
that  Hephaistos  is  constructing  the  pictures  on  a 
shield.  For  me  the  scenes  simply  grow  by  the  accumu- 
lation of  facts.  And  there  are  others  who  admit  that 
my  experience  is  theirs.  For  us  these  scenes  are  prac- 
tically enumerations, — they  are  almost  exactly  what 
Lessing  has  said  cannot  be  done  successfully  ;  and' yet 
here  we  have  this  method  used,  in  Homer,  and  in  the 
very  example  that  Lessing  has  cited  to  illustrate  its 
contrary. 

But  the  Iliad  is  not  the  Homeric  poem  that  one  would 


1—  Iliad,  Book  XVIII.  Lang,  Leaf,  and  Myers'  translation,  p. 
383. 


LESSI'NG'S  LAOCOON 


237 


naturally  refer  to  in  illustrating  the  possibilities  of 
description.  For  such  work  the  Odyssey,  the  traveler's 
book,  is  far  superior,  and  I  am  more  than  surprised  that 
Lessing  does  not  mention  the  Odyssey  in  support  of  his 
contention.  .  It  would  seem  that  he  had  not  thought  of 
it  in  this  connection.  Lessing  says:  "I  find  that 
Homer  paints  nothing  but  progressive  actions.  All 
bodies,  all  separate  objects,  are  painted  only  as  they 
take  part  in  such  actions,  and  generally  with  a  single 
touch."  Will  the  Odyssey  bear  him  out  in  this  state- 
ment? Let  us  answer  by  quoting  a  few  descriptions 
from  the  Odyssey. 

Here  is  a  description  of  an  axe:  i 'She  gave  him  a 
great  axe,  which  fitted  well  his  hands;  it  was  an  axe  of 
bronze,  sharp  on  both  sides,  and  had  a  beautiful  olive 
handle,  strongly  fastened;    .    .    .  ." 

Here  is  a  description  of  a  chair :  1 '  She  led  me  in  and 
placed  me  on  a  silver-studded  chair,  beautiful,  richly 
wrought, — upon  its  lower  part  there  was  a  rest  for 
feet.    .    .  ."1 

Here  is  a  description  of  a  harbor:  "Now  in  the  land 
of  Ithaca  there  is  a  certain  harbor  sacred  to  Phorcys, 
the  old  man  of  the  sea.  Here  two  projecting  jagged 
cliffs  slope  inward  toward  the  harbor  and  break  the 
heavy  waves  raised  by  wild  winds  without.  Inside,  with- 
out a  cable,  ride  the  well-benched  ships  when  once  they 
reach  the  roadstead.  Just  at  the  harbor's  head  a  leafy 
olive  stands,  and  near  it  a  pleasant  darksome  cave  sacred 
to  nymphs,  called  Naiads.  Within  the  cave  are  bowls 
and  jars  of  stone,  and  here  bees  hive  their  honey.  Long 
looms  of  stone  are  here,  where  nymphs  weave  purple 
robes,  a  marvel  to  behold.   Here  are  ever-flowing  springs. 


1 — Odyssey,  Book  V.  Palmer's  translation,  p.  79.  Ibid.,  Book 
X,  p.  1.56. 


238 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


The  cave  has  double  doors:  one  to  the  north,  accessible 
to  men ;  one  to  the  south,  for  gods.  By  this,  men  do  not 
pass;  it  is  the  immortals'  entrance."1 

Here  is  a  description  of  Athene:  "Near  him  Athene 
drew,  in  form  of  a  young  shepherd,  yet  delicate  as  are 
the  sons  of  kings.  Doubled  about  her  shoulders  she 
wore  a  fine-wrought  mantle ;  under  her  shining  feet  her 
sandals,  and  in  her  hand  a  spear. ' '  Also :  "  As  he  thus 
spoke,  the  goddess,  clear-eyed  Athene,  smiled  and  patted 
him  with  her  hands;  her  form  grew  like  a  woman's, — 
one  fair  and  tail  and  skilled  in  dainty  work.    .    .  ."2 

Here  is  a  description  of  Calypso's  grotto:  "He 
[Hermes]  found  she  was  within.  Upon  the  hearth  a 
great  fire  blazed,  and  far  along  the  island  the  fra- 
grance of  cleft  cedar  and  of  sandal-wood  sent  perfume 
as  they  burned.  Indoors,  and  singing  with  a  sweet 
voice,  she  tended  her  loom  and  wove  with  golden 
shuttle.  Around  the  grotto,  trees  grew  luxuriantly, 
alder  and  poplar  and  sweet-scented  Cyprus,  where  long- 
winged  birds  have  nests, — owls,  hawks,  and  sea-crows 
ready-tongued,  that  ply  their  business  in  the  waters. 
Here  too  was  trained  over  the  hollow  grotto  a  thrifty 
vine,  luxuriant  with  clusters ;  and  four  springs  in  a 
row  were  running  with  clear  water,  making  their  way 
from  one  another  here  and  there.  On  every  side  soft 
meadows  of  violet  and  parsley  bloomed.  Here,  there- 
fore, even  an  immortal  who  should  come  might  gaze  at 
what  he  saw,  and  in  his  heart  be  glad.  Here  stood 
and  gazed  the  guide,  the  Speedy-comer."3 

Next  I  will  quote  a  part  of  the  description  of  the 
palace  of  Alcinous : 


1 —  Odyssey,  Book  XIII.    Palmer's  translation,  p.  202. 

2—  Ibid.,  p.  205. 

3—  Ibid.,  Book  V,  p.  74. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


239 


''Meanwhile  Odysseus  neared  the  lordly  palace  of 
Alcinous,  and  his  heart  was  deeply  stirred  so  that  he 
paused  before  he  crossed  the  brazen  threshold;  for  a 
sheen  as  of  the  sun  or  moon  played  through  the  high- 
roofed  house  of  generous  Alcinous.  On  either  hand 
ran  walls  of  bronze  from  threshold  to  recess,  and  round 
about  the  ceiling  was  a  cornice  of  dark  metal.  Doors 
made  of  gold  closed  in  the  solid  building.  The  door- 
posts were  of  silver  and  stood  on  a  bronze  threshold, 
silver  the  lintel  overhead,  and  gold  the  handle.  On  the 
two  sides  were  gold  and  silver  dogs;  these  had  Heph- 
aistos  wrought  with  subtle  craft  to  guard  the  house  of 
generous  Alcinous,  creatures  immortal,  young  forever. 
Within  were  seats  ^planted  against  the  wall  on  this 
side  and  on  that,  from  threshold  to  recess,  in  long 
array;  and  over  these  were  strewn  light  fine-spun 
robes,  the  work  of  women.  Here  the  Phseacian  leaders 
used  to  sit,  drinking  and  eating,  holding  constant 
cheer.  And  golden  youths  on  massive  pedestals  stood 
and  held  flaming  torches  in  their  hands  to  light  by 
night  the  palace  for  the  feasters.    .    .  . 

"Without  the  court  and  close  beside  its  gate  is  a 
large  garden,  covering  four  acres ;  around  it  runs  a 
hedge  on  either  side.  Here  grow  tall  trees — pears, 
pomegranates,  apples  with  shining  fruit,  sweet  figs, 
and  thrifty  olives.  On  them  fruit  never  fails ;  it  is  not 
gone  in  winter  or  in  summer,  but  lasts  throughout  the 
year;  for  constantly  the  wind's  breath  brings  some  to 
bad  and  mellows  others.  Pear  ripens  upon  pear,  apple 
on  apple,  cluster  on  cluster,  fig  on  fig.  Here  too  the 
teeming  vineyard  has  been  planted,  one  part  of  which, 
the  drying-place,  lying  on  level  ground,  is  heating  in 
the  sun ;  elsewhere  men  gather  grapes ;  and  elsewhere 
still  they  tread  them.  In  front  the  grapes  are  green 
and  shed  their  flower,  but  a  second  row  are  now  just 
turning  dark.  And  here  trim  garden  beds,  along  the 
outer  line,  spring  up  in  every  kind  and  all  the  year  are 
gay.  Near  by,  two  fountains  rise,  one  scattering  its 
streams  throughout  the  garden,  one  bounding  by  an- 
other course  beneath  the  court-yard  gate  toward  the 
high  house ;  from  this  the  townsfolk  draw  their  water. 


240 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Such  at  the  palace  of  Aleinous  were  the  gods'  splendid 
gifts.  Here  long-tried  royal  Odysseus  stood  and  gazed. 
Then  after  he  had  gazed  to  his  heart's  fill  on  all,  he 
quickly  crossed  the  threshold  and  came  within  the 
house."1 

Now,  surely,  I  have  quoted  enough.  Each  of  these 
examples  refutes  Lessing's  statement  about  Homer, 
each  stands  as  an  argument  against  his  theory.  After 
reading  such  descriptions  I  cannot  resist  quoting 
against  Lessing  a  statement  he  himself  made  in  an 
early  part  of  the  Laocoon:  ' 1  Much  would  in  theory 
appear  unanswerable  if  the  achievements  of  genius  had 
not  proved  the  contrary. ' ' 


l—ma.,  Book  VII. 


Ill 


Lessing's  Psychology  of  Vision 

BUT  now,  is  it  necessary  to  go  to  the  achieve- 
ments of  genius  in  order  to  disprove  the  argu- 
ments for  Lessing's  theory?  May  there  not 
be  some  flaw  in  his  reasoning?  I  think  we  have 
a  right  to  suppose  that  there  is.  It  would  be  pass- 
ing strange  if  sound  argument  could  contradict 
the  facts  proved  by  example.  And  yet  Lessing 
has  presented  a  strong  case.  His  arguments  seem 
logical,  consistent,  and  fairly  conclusive.  Let  us, 
however,  investigate  his  premises.  Almost  everything 
he  says  is  based,  directly  or  indirectly,  on  his  theory 
of  vision.  He  asks  the  question:  "How  do  we  obtain 
a  clear  idea  of  a  thing  in  space?"  and  he  answers: 
"First  we  observe  its  separate  parts,  then  the  union  of 
these  parts,  and  finally  the  whole.  Our  senses  perform 
these  various  operations  with  such  amazing  rapidity  as 
to  make  them  seem  but  one.  This  rapidity  is  abso- 
lutely essential  to  our  obtaining  an  idea  of  the  whole, 
which  is  nothing  more  than  the  result  of  the  conception 
of  the  parts  and  of  their  connection  with  each  other."" 
Lessing's  idea,  then,  is  that  in  vision  we  see  the 
separate  particulars  before  we  see  the  whole  object, 
and  that  the  mind  does  its  work  of  synthesis  almost  in- 
stantaneously. But  can  this  be  accepted  as  a  true 
theory  of  vision?  No,  I  think  we  may  answer  with 
confidence,  modern  psychology  will  not  accept  any 
such  theory  as  that.  As  all  experiments  tend  to  show, 
in  seeing  we  go  from  the  vague  to  the  definite,  and  the 
process  is  often  very  far  from  being  instantaneous. 


241 


242 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


For  the  purpose  of  illustration  let  us  suppose  that  you 
and  I  go  to  the  top  of  a  hill  and  there  suddenly  catch 
sight  of  an  unfamiliar  landscape  on  beyond.  How  will 
it  appear  to  us  at  the  first  glance?  Will  it  flash  itself 
upon  us  as  a  wealth  of  details  ?  Shall  we  see  the  wood- 
lands and  meadows,  the  river,  the  farm-houses,  the  barns 
and  the  sheds,  all  distinctly  in  this  first  glance?  No,  if 
you  have  ever  introspected  under  such  conditions  you 
will  say  at  once,  Not  at  all.  Your  experience  will  be 
something  like  mine.  First  of  all,  I  am  conscious  of 
nothing  more  than  that  I  see  a  landscape,  with  the  addi- 
tion, perhaps,  of  one  or  two  vague  details  that  my  atten- 
tion has  been  focused  upon.  Gradually  these  become 
clearer  and  other  details  begin  to  come  into  view  as  my 
attention  shifts  from  place  to  place.  At  first  I  can  dis- 
tinguish nothing  but  crude  lines  and  blotches.  These 
resolve  themselves  presently  into  the  woods  and  meadows, 
or  into  the  row  of  trees  that  follow  the  river,  or  into 
roads  and  fences.  I  notice,  next,  a  number  of  farm 
buildings,  though  I  am  not  conscious  at  first  which  is 
the  house  and  which  is  the  barn,  these  later  details  com- 
ing to  me  after  I  focus  my  attention  upon  them.  Thus, 
by  a  comparatively  slow  process  of  analysis,  in  the  same 
Avay  that  Odysseus  observed  the  palace  of  Alcinous,  the 
scene  before  me  grows,  bit  by  bit,  all  the  time  becoming 
more  and  more  distinct. 

But,  you  may  say,  this  is  an  unfair  example.  When  I 
meet  my  friend,  Mr.  Smith,  on  the  street,  I  do  not  have 
to  go  through  all  this  long  process  to  recognize  him.  I 
can  tell  him  at  the  first  glance.  Certainly,  but  that  is 
because  most  of  our  seeing  is  not  perception  but  apper- 
ception. We  always  see  by  the  help  of  former  experi- 
ence. The  ease  with  which  you  recognize  Mr.  Smith 
depends  very  largely  on  the  degree  of  your  acquaintance 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


243 


with  him.  Strange  as  it  may  seem  to  one  who  is  not 
familiar  with  the  results  of  modern  psychological 
inquiry,  your  visual  image  of  Mr.  Smith,  that  you  recog- 
nize so  readily,  is  not  a  picture  of  the  moment  that  the 
outer  world,  so  to  speak,  thrusts  upon  you,  but  rather 
it  is  the  resultant  of  all  your  previous  views  and  analyses 
of  the  man — it  is  a  complex  mental  process.  Suppose 
that  the  man  does  not  look  like  anyone  with  whom  you 
are  at  present  familiar,  but  that  he  does  somewhat 
resemble  a  person  you  knew  ten  years  ago.  The  details 
now — and  with  them  the  recognition — will  not  come  so 
quickly  as  in  the  other  case.  Now  you  will  have  to 
analyze  out  the  details  slowly,  one  by  one,  until  the 
picture  is  complete.  Our  visual  conceptions,  then,  are 
matters  of  growth,  often  of  slow  growth. 

Let  us  take  another  example.  Go,  if  you  please,  to 
the  art  gallery  and  choose  there  some  great  painting 
that  you  have  never  looked  at  before.  Now  certainly 
neither  you  nor  anyone  else  would  care  to  assert  that 
you  can  see  all  there  is  in  the  picture  at  the  first  glance. 
Your  view  of  it  will  become  clearer  and  more  definite 
the  longer  you  look.  Study  will  always  bring  out  new 
details  and  new  meaning.  Or  suppose  that  you  see  a 
beautiful  man  or  woman.  Are  you  conscious  at  once 
of  what  it  is  that  makes  the  person  beautiful?  Perhaps 
it  is  some  particular  part  that  most  impresses  you, — 
let  us  say  it  is  the  eyes.  Are  you  then  conscious  of 
what  it  is  about  the  eyes  that  makes  them  so  beautiful? 
If  you  are  like  most  persons  you  have  not  even  noticed 
the  color.  You  simply  know  vaguely  that  they  are 
very  beautiful.  Barrie's  Little  Minister  was  not  at  all 
exceptional  in  failing  to  notice  the  color  of  his  sweet- 
heart's eyes. 

The  truth  is  that  most  of  the  things  we  see  in  this 


244 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


world  are  necessarily  no  more  than  abstractions.  True, 
we  rarely  think  of  them  in  that  way :  to  us  they  appear 
very  real,  and  we  treat  them  with  familiarity  and  ease, 
just  as  a  mathematician  treats  his  abstract  quantities. 
When  we  look  at  an  object  we  think  we  see  all  that 
lies  exposed  to  us,  and  yet,  while  we  are  looking,  someone 
else  may  be  able  to  point  out  details  that  we  have  not 
seen.  We  may  live  in  a  house  several  months  and  feel 
perfectly  at  home  there,  and  yet  perhaps  not  be  able  to 
answer  such  simple  questions  as  whether  it  has  blinds 
or  not,  or  whether  it  has  four  windows  or  five  in  front. 
We  meet  men  day  after  day  and  do  not  know  whether 
they  have  blue  eyes  or  black.  For  ordinary  purposes 
we  do  not  need  to  know  such  things.  I  have  classes 
in  composition.  Recently  I  asked  them  to  describe 
some  of  the  buildings  that  they  go  to  every  day.  If 
Lessing's  theory  of  vision  were  true,  the  task  of  find- 
ing things  to  say  ought  to  be  easy.  Though  perhaps 
the  students  might  not  be  able  to  write  effective  de- 
scriptions, they  ought  themselves  to  see  a  great  wealth 
of  details.  But  instead  of  that  they  had  great  trouble 
in  finding  anything  to  say.  It  was  difficult  for  them  to 
analyze  out  the  details.  Though  they  had  gone  to  the 
places  every  day,  the  buildings  had  remained  abstrac- 
tions for  them.  They  had  never  before  had  occasion  to 
note  the  characteristic  features.  And  they  simply  knew 
those  things  about  the  buildings  which  the  necessities 
or  accidents  of  experience  had  taught  them. 

In  this  ignorance  of  details  the  students  were  per- 
fectly normal.  When  we  consider  the  matter,  it  be- 
comes clear  at  once  that  every  object,  if  it  be  analyzed 
deeply  enough,  is  exceedingly  complex.  In  fact,  there 
seems  to  be  no  limit  to  the  minuteness  of  analysis.  But 
suppose  there  were,  then  if  all  these  details  should 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


245 


crowd  themselves  into  the  mental  image  at  the  first 
glance,  the  mind  would  necessarily  be  overwhelmed  by 
its  very  wealth.  When  we  looked  for  one  thing  we 
should  see  a  hundred  or  a  thousand,  equally  distinct. 
What  a  great  waste  of  effort  that  would  involve! 
Clearly,  on  the  ground  of  mental  economy  alone  we 
should  be  safe  in  judging  that  the  eye  does  not  see  in 
that  way. 

But  if  one  will  study  the  structure  of  the  eye,  one 
may  find  much  stronger  reasons  for  rejecting  Lessing's 
theory  of  vision.  All  parts  of  the  retina  do  not  receive 
impressions  with  equal  distinctness.  There  is  in  each 
eye  a  certain  place,  called  the  blind  spot,  which  receives 
no  impressions  at  all  from  the  field  of  vision.  And 
there  is  another  place,  called  the  yellow  spot,  on  which 
the  impressions  are  received  most  strongly  and  vividly. 
The  eye,  therefore,  cannot  by  its  very  structure  see  all 
parts  of  the  field  of  vision  with  the  same  definiteness. 
When  we  look  at  an  object,  there  is  always  one  part, 
called  the  focus  of  attention,  which  stands  out  more 
clearly  than  all  the  rest.  The  rays  of  light  from  this 
part  are  received  by  the  eye  on  its  yellow  spot.  The 
rest  of  the  field  is  not  so  plain  in  vision,  and  it  forms, 
as  it  were,  a  more  or  less  vague  background  or  fringe, 
for  the  central  part.  If  we  wish  to  see  the  background 
more  distinctly  we  are  obliged  to  shift  our  attention. 
Though  we  may  see  the  whole  of  a  large  field  at  once, 
there  is  only  a  small  portion  of  it  that  is  perceived  with 
any  degree  of  vividness,  and  even  that  part  is  dependent 
on  past  experience  for  its  interpretation.  The  less  we 
know  the  less  we  see.  The  first  glance,  then,  that  we 
give  to  an  object  does  not  afford  us  a  wealth  of  details. 
Analysis  is  necessary  to  bring  out  the  details,  and  this 
analysis  requires  time. 


246 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


To  re-enforce  the  preceding  statements  I  will  give 
the  results  of  an  experiment  that  I  have  tried  on  per- 
haps a  score  of  people.  Wherever  possible  I  tried  to 
select  as  my  subjects  persons  who  are  good  visualizers. 
that  is,  per&ons  who  remember  things  in  terms  of  visual 
images.  I  asked  these  persons  to  study  a  picture  of 
some  complexity.  In  almost  all  cases  it  was  a  little 
woodcut  of  Landseer's  ''The  Challenge."1.  My  instruc- 
tions were  generally  that  the  person  should  look  at  the 
picture  until  he  could  see  the  whole  of  it  in  his  mind's 
eye.  A  good  visualizer  after  looking  at  the  woodcut 
from  a  half-minute  to  two  minutes  would  assure  me 
that  his  mental  image  contained  everything  that  was 
in  the  picture.  To  him  the  mental  image  was  just  as 
rich  in  detail  as  the  picture  itself.  Then  I  took  the 
picture  myself  and  began  asking  questions  to  discover 
what  was  really  in  the  subject's  mental  image.  The 
result  was  exactly  what  I  expected  it  to  be.  Among 
all  my  subjects  not  one  could  answer  two-thirds  of  my 
questions.  Of  course  the  best  visualizers  made  the 
fewest  mistakes,  but  even  they  did  sometimes  answer 
incorrectly,  and  were  frequently  obliged  to  confess 
that  they  did  not  know  whether  certain  parts  were 
arranged  in  one  way  or  in  another.  For  instance,  when 
I  would  ask, 

Do  you  see  the  deer,  plainly? 

Yes,  would  be  the  answer. 
But  when  I  went  farther  and  asked  such  questions  as 

Is  the  deer's  mouth  open  or  shut? 

Can  you  see  the  deer's  tail? 

Does  the  deer  make  a  shadow?  etc., 
the  subject  often  found  it  impossible  to  answer.  I 


1 — Perry  Pictures,  No.  934. 


LEkSSING'S  laocoon 


247 


asked  how  many  tree-trunks  there  are  in  the  picture. 
The  answer  was  generally  two,  but  occasionally  it  was 
one,  and  sometimes  three.  A  few  of  my  subjects 
thought  they  saw  the  trunks  plainly,  but  to  my  next 
question, 

How  many  prongs  are  there  on  the  trunk  at  the  left 
of  the  picture?  I  have  never  yet  received  a  correct 
answer.  Generally  the  subject  would  say  immediately  y 
I  did  not  notice  that,  or  I  did  not  count  the  prongs,  or 
make  some  similar  answer.  That  is,  the  mental  images, 
though  they  seemed  complete,  were  after  all  not  suscep- 
tible of  minute  analysis.  They  were  conceptual  rather 
than  perceptual :  they  contained  the  general  notion  of 
the  object  without  going  much  into  detail. 

The  answers  regarding  the  tree-trunk  and  the  deer 
are  fair  representatives  of  the  results  as  a  whole.  And 
uot  only  were  the  things  themselves  unanalyzed,  but  the 
relations  of  part  to  part  were  also  unanalyzed.  Thus 
not  very  many  could  tell  me  whether  the  left  tree- 
trunk  is  under  the  deer,  or  before  it,  or  behind  it,  and 
the  three  or  four  who  could  tell  me  how  many  deer- 
tracks  there  are  in  the  picture  were  unable  to  give  the 
relative  position  of  the  tracks.  So  it  was  with  the 
relationship  of  other  objects.  This  phase  of  the  experi- 
ment suggests  that  relationships,  too,  require  analysis, 
if  they  are  to  be  correctly  reproduced  in  the  mental 
image. 

If  this  experiment  shows  that  the  ordinary  observer 
has  but  vague  impressions  in  his  percepts,  it  shows  also 
that  he  seldom  realizes  the  fact.  Had  I  asked  the  sub- 
ject to  memorize  all  the  details  in  the  picture,  he  would 
probably  have  said  at  once  that  he  could  not  do  it,  for 
his  past  experience  would  have  guided  him  in  the  an- 
swer.   But  by  giving  my  directions  in  the  way  I  did, — 


248 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


that  is,  by  asking  him  simply  to  intensify  his  mental 
image  until  it  looked  to  him  exactly  like  the  picture,  I 
drew  the  attention  away  from  the  memorization  of  facts 
and  made  the  task  seem  a  comparatively  simple  one. 
Though  the  process  of  intensification  involved  analysis 
and  memorization  of  separate  facts,  he  did  not  think  of 
it  in  that  way.  He  did  not  realize  that  what  he  saw  in 
the  picture  was  not  all  that  was  there.  In  many  cases, 
therefore,  the  surprise  grew  with  the  questions,  and 
when,  after  I  had  finished,  the  subject  was  permitted  to 
look  at  the  picture  again,  not  infrequently  he  assured 
me  that  the  picture  he  now  saw  was  very  different  from 
the  one  he  thought  he  saw  before. 

So  much,  then,  for  Lessing's  theory  of  vision.  It  is 
unquestionably  wrong.  Nevertheless,  in  order  to  show 
conclusively  that  his  theory  of  vision  invalidates  his 
theory  of  description,  it  will  be  well  for  us  to  examine 
further  the  question  of  the  time  involved  in  seeing.  If 
the  time  required  to  analyze  out  the  details — to  resolve 
them  from  the  vague  into  the  definite — is  instantaneous 
or  nearly  so,  then  of  course  it  would  make  but  little 
difference  for  description  what  might  be  the  process  of 
the  operation.  The  question  to  be  answered,  then,  is 
whether  language  is  rapid  enough  to  keep  up  with  vis- 
ual analysis.  Let  us  consider  this  phase  of  the  subject 
more  in  detail. 

In  the  examples  hitherto  presented — though  the  fact 
was  not  emphasized — the  operation  of  seeing  was  by 
no  means  instantaneous.  The  traveler  looking  over  the 
valley  might  gaze  for  half  an  hour  without  seeing  all 
that  was  pleasing.  The  friend  who  recognized  Mr. 
Smith  so  readily,  did  so  because  he  had  learned  to  know 
his  features  through  previous  meetings,  but  an  artist 
in  order  to  paint  the  same  face  would  require  many 


LESSTNG'S  LAOCOON 


249 


sittings.  The  task  of  the  composition  student  was  a 
slow  one.  Even  the  subjects  on  whom  I  experimented 
with  Landseer's  picture,  after  looking  at  it  from  one 
half -minute  to  two  minutes,  did  not  then  see  nearly  all 
that  was  in  it.  So  in  all  these  examples — and  it  would 
seem  that  the  ones  chosen  are  fairly  representative — 
a,  very  appreciable  time  is  spent  in  the  act  of  perceiv- 
ing. Now  how  fast  can  we  present  ideas  by  means  of 
language?  I  should  like  to  answer  this  question  by 
giving  the  results  obtained  from  one  of  the  subjects  of 
the  Landseer  experiment. 

The  subject  was  one  of  my  students — a  young  wo- 
man who  is  an  excellent  visualizer.  After  looking  at 
the  picture  two-thirds  of  a  minute  she  said  that  she 
"saw  as  much  of  the  picture  as  she  would  ever  see." 
This  is  what  she  saw : 

A  winter  scene  with  snow  and  ice. 

The  deer;  with  a  general  impression  of  its  pose  but 
nothing  very  definite.  She  did  not  see  the  mouth,  nor 
the  tail,  nor  the  shadow,  nor  the  ribs. 

The  mountains ;  with  one  or  two  parts  very  distinct. 

The  dark  sky  with  stars. 

A  smooth  body  of  water;  but  she  could  not  tell 
whether  or  not  the  banks  approach  each  other  at  the 
sides  of  the  picture. 

Two  tree-trunks  with  an  uncertain  number  of  prongs, 
and  the  roots  of  the  tree-trunk  at  the  right. 

She  may  have  seen  other  things  indistinctly,  but  if 
so  I  could  not  find  them  out.  I  am  sure  she  did  not 
see  the  stones  near  the  bank,  nor  the  shadows  in  the 
picture,  nor  the  footprints,  nor  the  other  deer.  She 
was  also  uncertain  about  the  mist.  She  did  not  know 
much  about  .the  relative  positions  of  objects:  for 


250 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


instance,  she  could  not  tell  me  where  the  left  tree-trunk 
is  with  reference  to  the  deer  and  to  the  water's  edge. 

Now,  although  this  young  woman  is  an  excellent 
observer  and  a  good  visualizer,  yet  it  took  her  two- 
thirds  of  a  minute  to  see  the  few  general  details  that  I 
have  listed.  What  can  descriptive  language  do  in  the 
same  interval?  The  question  is  easily  answered.  In 
less  than  one-half  of  that  time  I  can  read  aloud  a 
description  which  contains  all  the  details  that  she  saw, 
stated  at  least  as  definitely  as  she  saw  them.  Let  the 
following  description  serve  as  the  example : 

It  is  a  moonlight  winter  scene.  In  the  foreground 
on  the  snow-covered  shore  of  a  quiet  lake,  stands  a  deer 
with  head  thrown  back  as  if  in  the  act  of  challenging 
to  combat  another  deer.  Across  the  lake  to  the  right 
rise  snow-covered  mountains,  very  distinct  against  the 
dark  though  starlit  sky.  On  this  side  of  the  water  near 
the  deer,  lie  two  prongy  tree-trunks,  the  one  at  the 
right  having  gnarlly  roots. 

Now,  as  I  said  above,  I  can  read  through  this  descrip- 
tion out  loud  in  less  than  one-half  the  time  it  took  the 
subject  to  perceive  the  details,  and  the  subject  was  a 
better  visualizer  and  a  better  observer  than  the  aver- 
age person  on  whom  I  experimented.  No.  one  saw  more 
details  than  she  did  in  the  same  length  of  time.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  I  can  read  off  more  details  in  two-thirds 
of  a  minute  than  any  of  my  subjects  were  able  to  see  in 
two  minutes  of  observation.  And  though  I  have  not 
tried  the  experiment  on  enough  people  to  make  a 
sweeping  generalization,  I  can  at  least  say  this,  that  I 
have  yet  to  find  a  person  who  can  take  up  the  picture 
for  the  first  time  and  see  details  as  rapidly  as  they  can 
be  expressed  in  language.  If,  then,  enumerative 
descriptions  are  generally  unsuccessful,  it  surely  can- 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


251 


not  be  due  to  the  slowness  of  language.  Language 
seems  to  be  ever  so  much  more  rapid  than  is  the  work 
of  analysis  for  the  average  person.  Lessing's  argu- 
ment, therefore,  falls  to  the  ground:  language  is  more 
than  rapid  enough  for  enumerative  description. 


IV 


Lessing's  "Chain  of  Conclusions"  and  the  Missing 
Principle 

WHILE,  then,  I  do  not  wish  for  a  mo- 
ment to  deny  that  there  is  truth  in  Less- 
ing's contention  that  literature  and  forma- 
tive art  have  different  possibilities  and  different 
methods,  I  am  compelled  to  deny  emphatically 
that  Lessing  has  found  the  true  basis  for  this 
differentiation.  The  principle  upon  which  he  bases  all 
of  his  famous  "chain  of  conclusions"1  is  wrong,  and 
must  invalidate  all  that  rests  upon  it.  The  contrast 
between  poetry  and  painting  is  not  that  one  is  per- 
ceived temporally  and  the  other  spatially,  for  both  are 
perceived  temporally  and  both  may  be  perceived 
spatially;  nor  is  it  that  one  uses  articulate  sounds  and 
the  other  uses  forms  and  colors.  Some  other  principle 
must  be  found.  But  before  we  seek  it  let  us  examine 
carefully  some  of  the  individual  arguments  in  Lessing's 
"chain  of  conclusions."  I  will  begin  with  his  fourth 
argument,  the  one  that  deals  with  the  description  of 
bodies  through  actions.  It  is  complementary  to  the 
argument  regarding  the  presentation  of  actions  through 
bodies. 

"Actions,"  says  Lessing,  "cannot  exist  independ- 
ently, but  must  always  be  joined  to  certain  agents.  In 
so  far  as  those  agents  are  bodies  or  are  regarded  as 
such,  poetry  describes  also  bodies,  but  only  indirectly 
through  actions." 

1 — Laocoon,  XVI. 


252 


LESSING 'S  LAOCOON 


253 


This  statement  is  perhaps  true  on  its  face,  and  no- 
doubt  Lessing  meant  to  be  entirely  fair  and  honest 
when  he  made  it.  Nevertheless,  it  is  more  subtly  fal- 
lacious than  almost  any  other  paragraph  of  Lessing 's 
that  I  know  of.  It  is  so  subtle,  in  fact,  that  even  so 
accomplished  a  logician  as  Bosanquet,  translating  it  for 
his  History  of  /Esthetic,  p.  224,  makes  of  it  a  complete 
fallacy.    This  is  his  translation : 

"On  the  other  hand  actions  cannot  exist  apart,  but 
must  be  attached  to  beings.  In  as  far  as  these  beings 
are  bodies,  or  are  regarded  as  bodies,  poetry  can  depict 
bodies  too,  but  only  by  suggestion  conveyed  through 
action."    (The  italics  are  mine.) 

Now  all  that  Lessing  can  truthfully  mean  is : 

"Actions  cannot  exist  apart  from  agents.  Therefore,, 
in  so  far  as  agents  are  bodies,  poetry  must  depict 
bodies, — at  least  in  so  far  as  it  suggests  them  in  con- 
nection with  actions." 

But  if  the  least  that  can  be  said  with  reference  to- 
this  paragraph  from  the  famous  "chain  of  conclusions" 
is  that  it  is,  very  misleading,  what  should  be  said  about 
the  second  paragraph  following  it  ?  As  already  stated. 
Lessing  pairs  off  the  characteristics  for  painting  and 
poetry  in  contrasting  sets.  In  the  paragraph  follow- 
ing the  one  we  have  just  been  discussing,  Lessing 
makes  this  statement : 

"Painting,  in  its  coexistent  compositions,  can  use 
but  a  single  moment  of  an  action,  and  must  therefore 
choose  the  most  pregnant  one,  the  one  most  suggestive 
of  what  has  gone  before  and  what  is  to  follow. ' ' 

We  shall  not  dispute  his  conclusion.  He  has  argued 
this  matter  out  at  some  length  in  previous  chapters. 
But  now  notice  what  he  has  to  say  about  poetry  in  the 
contrasting  statement  : 


254 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


"Poetry,  in  its  progressive  imitations,  can  use  but  a 
single  attribute  of  bodies,  and  must  choose  that  one 
which  gives  the  most  vivid  picture  of  the  body  as  exer- 
cised in  this  particular  action." 

This  statement  does  seem  to  balance  with  the  other 
rather  prettily,  but  where  are  its  antecedents  to  be 
found?  Certainly  not  in  any  of  the  earlier  parts  of  the 
book,  and  certainly  not  in  any  other  "links"  in  his  chain 
of  conclusions.  Nowhere  has  he  had  anything  to  say 
about  the  number  of  attributes  that  can  be  used  in 
description.  The  preceding  statement  on  poetry — the 
one  that  we  have  just  been  criticising— should  tell  us 
that  we  can  describe  without  using  any  attributes 
whatever.  Since  the  agent  is  a  body  with  certain  char- 
acteristics, when  we  mention  the  mere  name  we  suggest 
these  characteristics,  and  hence  present  potentially  a 
certain  amount  of  description.  Now  if  the  cause  for 
the  failure  of  so  many  descriptions  is  that  which 
Lessing  would  have  us  believe,  that  is,  that  language  is 
so  slow  it  cannot  keep  up  with  the  rapidity  of  percep- 
tion, why  not  reduce  our  description  to  its  lowest 
terms?  Why  employ  even  a  single  epithet?  Clearly, 
it  would  seem  that  if  he  were  entirely  consistent,  Less- 
ing should  have  given  us  for  his  contrasting  statement 
one  something  like  this :  Just  as  painting  in  its  unpro- 
gressiveness  uses  but  a  single  moment  of  time,  poetry 
in  its  progressive  development  should  use  but  a  single 
symbol — that  is,  the  name  of  the  object  itself.  Here 
indeed  we  have  a  consistent  argument,  though  it  is  not 
one  we  should  wish  to  follow.  Art  is  too  complex  to  be 
encompassed  by  such  simple  rules. 

But  how  did  Lessing  arrive  at  this  idea?  The 
explanation,  as  I  see  it,  is  an  interesting  one.  He  had 
been  giving  his  conclusions  in  contrasting  pairs.  He 


LESSING 'S  LAOCOON 


255 


had  shown  at  some  length  in  previous  chapters  that 
painting  can  use  but  a  single  moment  of  time,  but  he 
had  nowhere  developed  any  idea  about  poetry  that 
could  serve  as  a  balancing  statement.  Nevertheless  he 
knew  that  Homer  used  single  epithets,  and  since  he 
wished  his  argument  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  exam- 
ple of  Homer,  he  worked  back  from  the  method  fol- 
lowed in  the  epics  to  a  generalization  that  would  be  in 
accordance  with  it.  This  he  boldly  assumed  as  the 
true  principle,  just  as  if  he  had  proved  it,  and  intro- 
duced it  as  the  statement  correlative  to  the  one  about 
painting.  Then  having  assumed' it,  he  deduced  from  it 
the  rule  that  had  at  first  suggested  it — "Hence  the 
rule,"  he  says,  "for  the  employment  of  a  single  descrip- 
tive epithet."  Then  last  of  all  he  confirms  all  this  by 
referring  to  Homer :  "I  should  place  less  confidence  in 
this  dry  chain  of  conclusions,  did  I  not  find  them  fully 
confirmed  by  Homer,  or,  rather,  had  they  not  been  first 
suggested  to  me  by  Homer's  method."  An  interesting 
example  of  reasoning  in  a  circle. 

We  have  found,  then,  that  there  is  more  than  one 
flaw  in  Lessing 's  argument,  and  we  are  not  through  with 
it  yet.  But  before  we  try  to  destroy  anything  further 
in  the  Laocoon,  let  us  seek  that  missing  principle,  lately 
referred  to,  that  can  serve  as  the  basis  in  the  differen- 
tiation of  literature  and  formative  art.  At  the  begin- 
ning of  his  ' 1  chain  of  conclusions, ' ?  Lessing  speaks  of  the 
different  signs  (Zeichen)  or  means  of  imitation  used  by 
painting  and  poetry.  Until  a  short  time  ago  I  was  for 
some  reason  under  the  impression  that  Lessing  meant 
by  sign  what  is  ordinarily  meant  by  symbol,  and  that, 
therefore,  it  was  his  idea  that  painting  has  a  symbolism 
of  forms  and  colors  which  exactly  corresponds  to  the 
sounds  used  by  poetry.    In  this  I  misunderstood  Less- 


256 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ing.  I  now  believe  that  he  meant  by  the  word  sign 
nothing  more  than  the  material  out  of  which,  or  by 
means  of  which,  the  respective  arts  represent  their 
ideas. 

But  if  he  had  really  intended  to  say  what  I  thought 
he  said,  he  would  again  have  made  a  mistake,  for  it  is- 
precisely  in  connection  with  the  use  of  symbolism  that 
we  find  the  true  basis  for  the  differentiation  of  the 
sister  arts.  Poetry — or,  more  broadly  speaking,  litera- 
ture— has  to  use  in  the  presentation  of  most  of  its  ideas 
an  elaborate,  artificial  symbolism.  There  is  nothing  in 
the  form  or  the  sound  of  the  word  knife,  for  instance,, 
which  makes  that  symbol  particularly  fit  to  suggest  to 
us  a  thing  to  eat  with.  A  person  unacquainted  with 
our  language  could  no  more  tell  the  meaning  of  the 
word  from  its  form  and  sound  than  we  could  guess  the 
meaning  of  Messer  or  couteau  if  we  did  not  know  Ger- 
man or  French.  Knife  means  to  us  what  it  does,  simply 
through  previous  associations  of  the  word  with  the 
object.  The  word  by  its  own  nature  does  not  show  us 
the  thing,  it  simply  stands  for  it  arbitrarily.  That  isr 
literature  is  obliged  to  present  its  visual  ideas  indirectly 
through  a  word  symbolism.  Such  is  not  the  case  with 
painting  or  with  the  formative  arts  in  general.  They 
can  present  their  objects  directly  in  terms  of  the  very 
sensations.  A  knife  in  painting  has,  as  far  as  possible, 
the  same  visual  characteristics  as  the  real  knife  one 
uses  at  the  table.  To  be  sure,  formative  art  may  and 
often  does  use  symbolism  with  complete  success,  but 
this  symbolism  which  formative  art  employs  is  gener- 
ally natural  as  opposed  to  artificial.  There  is  at  any 
rate  a  very  close  relation  between  the  sign  and  the 
thing  signified.  Formative  art,  then,  may  be  almost 
universal  in  its  immediate  appeal,  whereas  no  one  can 


LESSING 'S  LAOCOON 


257 


appreciate  literary  art  until  he  understands  the  lan- 
guage in  which  it  is  written.  A  painted  landscape 
means  a  landscape  to  everybody ;  not  so  the  description 
of  a  landscape.  This  difference  of  directness  and  indi- 
rectness in  presentation  is  the  boundary  between  the 
two  fields  of  art,  the  principle  determining  for  each  its 
separate  aims  and  methods.  The  full  importance  of 
this  difference  will  become  clearer  as  we  proceed. 

Lessing  has  admitted  more  than  once  that  language 
is  arbitrary,  and  we  have  agreed  with  him  so  far  as  to 
say  that  most  words  have  no  special  fitness  to  stand  as 
the  symbols  for  the  particular  ideas  which  they  repre- 
sent. But  clearly  this  cannot  be  the  meaning  that  Less- 
ing had  in  mind  for  the  word  arbitrary,  because  surely 
the  fact  that  words  are  not  fitted  to  stand  for  their 
ideas  cannot  help  them  in  the  work  of  description,  and 
Lessing  admits  distinctly  that  language  can  describe  to 
some  extent  just  because  it  is  arbitrary.  "What  Less- 
ing must  mean  by  the  term,  then,  is  that  the  same  word 
can  suggest  the  same  idea  to  each  of  us.  Passing  over 
the  question  for  the  moment  whether  this  is  true  or  not* 
we  can  reply  to  Lessing  that  if  language  is  arbitrary  in 
this  sense,  then  it  must  be  an  ideal  medium  for  enumer- 
ative  description.  All  that  is  necessary  for  adequate 
description  is  to  give  first  the  general  impression  and 
then  to  follow  this  by  details  in  the  order  in  which 
they  naturally  suggest  themselves.  But  there  is 
another  characteristic  about  language  that  Lessing 
apparently  has  not  thought  of,  and  that  is,  that  lan- 
guage is  not  made  up  of  isolated  fragments — each 
word  does  not  give  us  a  distinct  impression — but  we 
think  in  word-groups,  and  it  is  possible  to  read  a 
periodic  sentence  almost  to  its  close  before  the  con- 


258 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


tained  idea  flashes  upon  the  mind.  This  of  course  is 
a  great  help  to  description. 

If  language  were  arbitrary  I  see  no  reason  why  it 
could  not  compete  with  a  photograph.  But  here  again 
the  facts  are  against  Lessing:  language  is  not  arbitrary. 
Mental  imagery  is  a  very  personal  affair ;  it  must  neces- 
sarily rest  upon  individual  experience.  The  life  his- 
tory of  no  two  persons  is  the  same;  not  only  do  men 
differ  in  their  temperaments  .and  inclinations,  but  no 
two  are  able  to  go  through  exactly  the  same  experi- 
ences. Therefore  the  concepts  and  notions  of  things, 
which  are  built  up  out  of  experience,  must  also  differ, 
and  since  words  but  represent  these  concepts  and 
notions,  they  too  must  have  for  different  persons  differ- 
ent associations.  Herein,  I  believe,  lies  the  hardest 
problem  of  description:  How  is  it  possible  to  suggest 
the  same  picture  to  all  when  the  words  used  may  mean 
different  things  for  each?  The  difficulty,  I  fear,  is  at 
least  in  part  insurmountable,  for  not  only  do  concepts 
differ  in  themselves  but  they  may  also  call  up  different 
backgrounds.  It  will  be  best  to  leave  this  subject, 
however,  for  a  later  and  fuller  discussion. 

I  have  had  much  fault  to  find  with  Lessing  on  my 
way  so  far.  Indeed,  the  discussion  may  have  suggested 
that  with  regard  to  everything  he  said  he  was  somewhat 
in  the  wrong.  It  has  been  shown  that  he  was  wrong  in 
his  assertions  about  Homer's  methods,  and  wrong  in 
his  opinion  that  the  method  of  enumerative  description 
runs  counter  to  the  process  of  acquiring  visual  ideas. 
The  argument  has  again  thrown  open  to  discussion  the 
whole  theory  of  the  limits  of  description — boundaries 
which  Lessing  thought  he  had  fixed  for  all  time.  Not 
to  do  this  eminent  thinker  injustice,  let  us  now  say  a 
few  words  in  his  favor. 


LESSING 'S  LAOCOON 


259 


One  of  the  chief  ideas  presented  in  the  Laocoon — 
perhaps  the  most  important  of  them  all — is  that  litera- 
ture and  formative  art,  by  the  very  nature  of  things, 
have  different  possibilities  and  methods.  This  is  a 
familiar  thought  now,  but  it  was  Lessing  who  first 
impressed  the  idea  upon  the  world.  If  he  had  done 
nothing  more  he  would  deserve  respect  for  having 
accomplished  that.  But  Lessing  not  only  showed  that 
the  two  fields  are  different — he  also  gave  us  proper 
methods  to  use  in  making  this  differentiation. 

Furthermore,  Lessing 's  very  errors  served  in  their 
time  a  useful  purpose.  His  rule  that  description  ought 
always  to  be  progressive,  though  it  does  not  state  the 
whole  truth  and  though  he  did  not  establish  it  legit- 
imately, is  not  far  in  the  wrong.  It  goes  much  beyond 
the  older  idea,  which  he  attacked,  that  the  poet  should 
imitate  the  painter  in  portraying  scenes  and  faces. 
Though  I  attempt  to  show  that  description  is  broader 
in  method  than  Lessing  supposed,  far  be  it  from  my 
purpose  to  encourage  the  frequent  use  of  static  and 
enumerative,  description.  I  am  with  Lessing  in  stand- 
ing for  life  and  movement,  but  my  reasons  are  different 
from  his,  and  different  largely  because  men  have  been 
making  discoveries  in  psychology  in  the  hundred  and 
fifty  years  since  Lessing 's  time.  So  then,  though  we 
have  disputed  Lessing 's  views  at  almost  every  step, 
all  honor  to  the  man  for  having  broken  the  way. 


V 


Boundaries  of  Description  as  a  Type  of  Discourse 
W~  ERE  AFTER  we  shall  not  have  much  to  say 


J — 1—has  done  us  good  service  as  an  introduc- 
tion to  our  work,  and  while  we  have  not  yet  deter- 
mined as  definitely  as  possible  the  boundaries  and 
methods  of  description,  we  have  learned  from  the 
preceding  chapters  that  Lessing's  ideas  on  the  subject, 
though  stimulating,  are  not  very  trustworthy.  We 
need  then  feel  no  uneasiness  if  the  ideas  that  we  shall 
presently  work  out  are  not  in  accordance  with  those 
expressed  in  the  Laocoon.  Modern  scholarship,  espe- 
cially in  the  field  of  psychology,  has  made  advances 
since  the  time  of  Lessing,  and  it  is  with  these  advances 
that  we  shall  be  chiefly  concerned  in  our  further  study. 

As  preliminary  to  determining  the  boundaries  of 
descriptive  writing,  it  seems  desirable  to  state  with 
exactness  what  is  meant  by  description.  This  is  not  so 
easy  as  might  be  supposed.  Even  a  brief  study  of 
literary  types  will  afford  ample  illustration  of  the  state- 
ment made  by  Gardiner  in  his  Forms  of  Prose  Literature 
that  the  present  "divisions  of  rhetoric  are  artificial  and 
largely  arbitrary."1  As  a  result,  writers  are  not 
entirely  agreed  in  the  matter  of  definition.  To  add  to 
the  confusion,  the  types  overlap,  so  that  it  is  sometimes 
difficult  to  tell  whether  a  selection  is  descriptive,  or 
expository,  or  narrative.  And  some  specimens  of  dis- 
course, of  considerable  interest  and  importance,  it  is 

1 — J.  H.  Gardiner,  The  Forms  of  Prose  Literature,  N.  Y.,  1900, 
p.  1. 


and  his  theory.     The  latter 


260 


LESSI'NG'S  LAOCOON 


261 


impossible  to  classify  under  any  of  the  recognized 
types.  These  are  some  of  the  difficulties  that  stand  in 
the  way  of  scientific  definition. 

The  disturbing  element  in  any  discussion  of  classifi- 
cation is  the  type  exposition.  It  is  this  type  which 
overlaps  the  rest.  Being  especially  designed  to  con- 
vey instruction,  it  has  brought  together  from  the  fields 
of  description,  narration,  and  argument  whatever  may 
be  of  service  in  didactic  composition.  Rhetoricians 
have  been  slow  to  recognize  this  fact,  and  have  per- 
sisted in  trying  to  mark  out  for  it  a  field  coordinate 
with  the  other  types. 

The  current  rhetorical  division  of  literature  into 
description,  narration,  exposition,  and  argument  (or 
persuasion),  has  now  become  so  well-nigh  universal  in 
text-books  that  many  students  assume  it  to  be  founded 
in  the  nature  of  things  and  to  have  existed  from  the 
beginning  of  rhetorical  speculation.  This  idea  is  so  far 
from  the  truth  that  it  will  be  worth  our  while  to  con- 
sider briefly  the  genesis  of  our  modern  classification,  if 
for  no  other  reason  than  to  show  how  entirely  depend- 
ent on  practical  considerations  has  been  the  evolution 
of  the  various  types. 

According  to  Jebb,1  the  founder  of  rhetoric  as  an 
art  was  Corax  of  Syracuse  (c.  466  B.  C).  In  466 
Thrasybulus  the  despot  of  Syracuse  was  overthrown, 
and  a  democracy  was  established.  One  of  the  imme- 
diate consequences  was  a  mass  of  litigation  on  claims 
to  property.  Such  claims,  often  dating  back  many 
years,  would  frequently  require  that  a  complicated 
series  of  details  should  be  stated  and  arranged.  They 
would  also,  in  many  instances,  lack  documentary  proof, 


1 — Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  Vol.  XX,  p.  508  f.,  Article, 
Rhetoric.    Also  Jebb's  Attic  Orators. 


262 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


and  rely  chiefly  on  inferential  reasoning.  The  facts 
known  as  to  the  "art"  of  Corax  perfectly  agree  with 
these  conditions.  It  sought  to  help  the  plain  citizen 
who  had  to  speak  before  a  court  of  law.  Thus  rhetoric 
originated  in  a  practical  way.  At  first  the  only  recog- 
nized rhetorical  type  was  that  of  argument  or  per- 
suasion. But  the  law  court  was  not  the  only  place 
where  men  were  required  to  address  public  assemblies. 
Civic  duties  and  various  other  functions  called  for  the 
oration,  nearly  akin  to  the  forensic  speech.  So  in  the 
course  of  time,  and  at  first  as  subordinate  branches, 
two  other  kinds  of  rhetoric  were  added  to  the  forensic, 
— first,  the  deliberative,  and  later  the  epideictic  branch. 
Aristotle,  while  he  recognized  the  three  types  as  coordi- 
nate, defined  rhetoric  as  the  "faculty  of  discerning  in 
every  case  the  available  means  of  persuasion ; ' '  though 
clearly  in  his  own  treatment  the  subject-matter  had 
outgrown  this  definition,  for,  as  he  pointed  out,  the 
epideictic  branch  is  not  chiefly  concerned  with  per- 
suasion :  it  is  the  rhetoric  of  display. 

Later,  when  the  study  of  rhetoric  was  transferred  to 
Rome,  the  point  of  view  was  again  considerably  shifted. 
This,  I  believe,  was  due  in  large  part  to  fundamental 
differences  in  racial  characteristics  and  in  the  taste  of 
the  age.  Since  the  Romans  were  not  so  analytical  as 
the  earlier  Greeks,  they  cared  less  for  logical  persua- 
sion. The  attainment  of  eloquence  now  became  the 
ideal  of  instruction  in  rhetoric.  But  eloquence  is  a 
broader  and  looser  term  than  persuasion,  and  it  has  for 
its  object  to  please  quite  as  much  as  to  convince.  Here, 
then,  was  a  chance  for  an  enlargement  of  the  field,  and 
that  is  precisely  what  came  about. 

While  these  changes  were  taking  place,  however, 
there  had  grown  up  another  body  of  theory,  which 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


263 


dealt  with  the  aims  and  methods  of  the  literature  of 
pleasure.  This  theory  had  at  first  nothing  to  do  with 
rhetoric.  It  was  known  as  poetics,  and  later  as  a  part 
of  grammar.  But  after  rhetoric  broadened  its  horizon, 
parts  of  this  theory  began  to  find  their  way  into  rhe- 
torical teaching.  The  Romans  and  the  later  Greeks 
gave  the  youth  instruction  in  descriptive  and  narrative 
writing  (fables)  as  a  preliminary  to  the  more  advanced 
and  more  important  study  of  eloquence.  The  reading 
and  memorizing  of  poetry  was  also  made  a  part  of  this 
elementary  instruction.  These  subordinate  branches 
assuming  a  more  .and  more  important  place,  the  study 
of  rhetoric,  by  the  beginning  of  the  modern  epoch,  had 
come  to  embrace  two  distinct  kinds  of  discourse:  the 
literature  of  eloquence  or  persuasion,  and  the  litera- 
ture of  pleasure.  It  is  in  the  latter  field  that  descrip- 
tion and  narration  have  achieved  their  development. 
Many  books  in  rhetoric  have  treated  them  solely  in 
connection  with  poetry,  and  even  at  the  present  day 
they  are  still  almost  entirely  limited,  though  perhaps 
unintentionally,  to  the  literature  of  pleasure.  They 
are  still  chiefly  concerned  with  an  appeal  to  the  imagi- 
nation. 

In  modern  times  the  scope  of  rhetoric  has  been  ex- 
tended still  farther.  The  name  eloquence  was  applied 
to  writing  as  well  as  to  speaking,  and  rhetoric  thus 
became  the  art  of  writing  well.  It  also  added  to  itself 
the  study  of  Belles  Lettres.  Any  branch  of  literature 
about  which  it  was  thought  a  student  should  know, 
whether  for  purposes  of  composition  or  appreciation, 
was  felt  to  be  a  fit  subject  for  rhetorical  instruction. 
Besides  orations,  rhetoric  already  included  poetry,  and 
now  it  began  to  add  such  other  types  of  literature  as 
sermons,  essays,  dissertations,  histories,  and  even  let- 


264 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ters.  Reaching  out  into  this  new  territory,  rhetoric 
laid  claim  to  another  field  of  literature, — a  field  that 
may  be  called  the  literature  of  instruction.  With  the 
dissertation  it  approached  the  most  modern  of  all  our 
present  types  of  discourse,  that  which  we  know  as  expo- 
sition. As  nearly  as  I  can  discover,  exposition  was 
first  recognized  in  the  rhetorics  about  the  middle  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  being  forced  upon  the  attention 
of  students  of  rhetoric  by  the  growing  interest  in  scien- 
tific instruction. 

In  late  years  rhetoric  has  continued  to  change.  It 
has  now  limited  its  work  almost  entirely  to  instruction 
in  prose  composition.  And  in  this  field  it  has  shifted 
the  emphasis.  Eloquence  no  longer  holds  the  most  im- 
portant place.  Indeed  this  shift  has  been  felt  to  be  so 
great  that  writers  on  the  subject  have  often  hesitated 
to  call  their  text-books  " rhetorics,''  preferring  the 
name  English  Composition.  I  have  suggested  in  the 
last  few  pages  that  there  are  three  purposes  for  which 
composition  may  be  used:  that  is,  aesthetic  pleasure,  in- 
struction, and  conviction.  Though  these  three  pur- 
poses have  not  as  yet  been  consciously  recognized  in 
the  matter  of  classification,  all  three  receive  treatment 
in  the  present-day  rhetoric,  and  no  one  is  given  a  pre- 
ponderance of  attention.  Instruction  in  description 
and  narration  deals  mainly  with  the  literature  of  pleas- 
ure, instruction  in  exposition  with  the  literature  of  in- 
struction, and  instruction  in  argument  with  the  litera- 
ture of  conviction. 

This  brief  and  fragmentary  account  of  the  develop- 
ment of  rhetorical  types  will  show  why  it  is  difficult  to 
frame  a  satisfactory  definition  of  description.  We  can 
easily  see,  after  such  a  review,  that  the  theory  and 
aims  of  rhetoric  have  not  remained  stationary  for  the 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


265 


past  two  thousand  years.  Contrary  to  the  opinions  of 
certain  learned  men,1  Aristotle  has  not  had  the  last 
word  to  say  upon  this  subject.  It  has  been  revolu- 
tionized several  times  since  his  death.  The  numerous 
types  that  since  then  have  been  adopted,  have  been 
added  for  practical  reasons.  Their  subject-matter  has 
first  grown  up  outside  the  rhetorics.  Such  conditions 
are  not  ideal  for  obtaining  a  logical  classification. 

In  the  greater  number  of  modern  text-books  the 
classification  of  types  of  discourse  is  based  on  two  con- 
flicting principles :  first,  the  nature  of  the  idea,  that  is, 
whether  it  is  specific2  or  general;  and  secondly,  the 
purpose  of  the  discourse,  that  is,  whether  it  is  to  in- 
struct, to  convince,  or  to  arouse  aesthetic  pleasure. 
Though  the  second  of  these  principles  is,  as  I  have  said, 
the  less  consciously  employed,  I  think  it  is  nevertheless 
the  more  serviceable  of  the  two.  It  is  possible  to  show 
this  in  discussing  the  relations  of  exposition  to  the 
other  types. 

Exposition  is  pre-eminently  the  type  employed  in 
scientific  and  other  similarly  instructive  discourse.  In 
this  field  it  presents  material,  it  explains  and  interprets 
it,  and  it  argues  about  it  if  necessary.  The  last  of  these 
uses  may  be  considered  first.  It  is  usual  to  differen- 
tiate scientific  argument  from  exposition  by  limiting 
the  former  to  questions  in  dispute  and  the  latter  to 
material  that  is  accepted  by  all.  But  as  applied  to 
writers  that  are  genuinely  scientific  this  distinction  has 
little  value.  So  slight  is  the  difference  in  method  be- 
tween the  two,  that  what  is  argument  for  one  person 


1 —  Cf.,  for  example,  the  Preface  to  Weldon's  translation  of 
Aristotle's  Bhetoric. 

2 —  With  the  specific  is  ranked  the  concrete,  with  the  general 
the  abstract. 


266 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


may  be  exposition  for  another.  Mr.  Gardiner1  makes 
this  point  clear  by  citing  the  case  of  Darwin's  Origin 
of  Species.  Darwin  spoke  of  his  book  as  an  extended 
and  difficult  argument ;  we  think  of  it  nowadays  as  an 
exposition.  That  is,  scientific  argument,2  as  soon  as 
it  is  generally  accepted,  becomes  sound  exposition. 

As  regards  the  presentation  of  ideas,  exposition  is 
engaged  in  the  same  kind  of  work  as  description  and 
narration.  It  is  customary  to  separate  exposition  from 
the  other  two  kinds  of  writing  on  the  ground  that  it 
deals  with  abstract  and  general  ideas,  while  descrip- 
tion and  narration  present  ideas  that  are  concrete  and 
specific.  It  is  possible  to  show,  however,  that  this  dis- 
tinction is  accidental  rather  than  essential,  and  that  the 
principle  of  division  will  not  hold  absolutely  for  either 
of  the  members.  Exposition  sometimes  deals  with  the 
specific  and  concrete.3  For  instance,  it  may  present 
and  discuss  the  traits  of  one  bird  as  well  as  those  of  a 
whole  species,  and  a  description  of  the  former  may  be 
virtually  identical  with  a  description  of  the  latter.  Not 
only  in  method  but  even  in  the  actual  words  employed, 
there  may  be  no  appreciable  difference  between  the 
accounts  of  how  a  stamping  machine  makes  a  particular 
coin,  and  how  it  makes  any  coin.  If,  then,  the  purpose, 
the  methods,  and  even  the  very  words  used  may  be  the 
same  for  the  general  as  for  the  specific,  what  is  the  logi- 
cal value  of  the  principle  of  division? 

Furthermore,  not  every  presentation  of  general  or 
abstract  ideas  is  expository.  Consider,  for  instance, 
the  following  from  Robert  Greene's  Content: 

1 —  The  Forms  of  Prose  Literature,  p.  16. 

2 —  This  is  less  true  for  artistic  argument,  or  persuasion,  than 
for  scientific  argument,  because  in  the  former  the  emotional  ele- 
ment betrays  the  purpose. 

3—  Cf.  A.  S.  Hill  The  Principles  of  Rhetoric,  1895,  p.  307,  f. 


LESSI'NG'S  LAOCOON 


267 


Sweet  are  the  thoughts  that  savour  of  content, 
The  quiet  mind  is  richer  than  a  crown; 

Sweet  are  the  nights  in  careless  slumber  spent, 
The  poor  estate  scorns  fortune 's  angry  frown : 

Such  sweet  content,  such  minds,  such  sleep,  such  blissr 

Beggars  enjoy,  when  princes  oft  do  miss. 

What  have  we  here  except  a  presentation  of  general 
or  abstract  ideas?  Yet  few  persons  would  venture  to 
call  it  exposition.  In  both  spirit  and  purpose  it  differs 
much  from  writings  of  the  expository  type.  Its  aim  is 
not  so  much  instruction  as  self-expression. 

I  think  I  have  shown  that  to  posit  the  qualities  of 
abstractness  and  generality  as  necessary  attributes  of 
exposition,  does  violence  to  the  type  as  regards  both 
method  and  subject-matter.  But  if  this  principle  of 
division  is  unfair  to  exposition,  it  also  works  no  less 
injustice  to  description  and  narration.  If,  for  instance,, 
we  lay  down  the  rule  that  description  must  not  deal 
with  generalizations,  we  deny  to  it  the  right  to  present 
that  which  is  typical.  This  means  that  character  de- 
scriptions and  even  personal  descriptions  such  as  are 
found  in  biographies,  must  in  theory  be  excluded  from 
this  category.  Theoretically  to  limit  descriptions,  as 
we  now  generally  do,  to  specific  objects  or  scenes,  and 
then  to  allow  to  them  in  practice  all  sorts  of  generaliza- 
tions in  the  presentation  of  this  limited  subject-matter, 
is  the  height  of  illogicality.  The  fact  is  that  in  dealing 
with  the  essential  characteristics  of  single  objects  or 
scenes  we  require  exactly  as  much  generalization  as  in 
expounding  the  essential  characteristics  of  a  genus  of 
plants  or  animals. 

How  shall  we  escape  from  this  dilemma?  I  have 
already  suggested  my  answer.  Let  us  cease  to  regard 
exposition  as  coordinate  with  the  other  types.  Let  us 
include  under  it  all  literature  whose  specific  aim  is 


268 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


instruction.  We  may  then  frankly  concede  that  a  part 
of  its  work  lies  in  the  field  of  description.  Coordinate 
with  exposition  is  the  literature  of  pleasure,  which  also 
makes  large  use  of  description.  These  two  main  divi- 
sions represent  the  respective  aims  of  science  and  art, 
and  though  science  and  art  sometimes  mingle,  the  two 
are  generally  quite  sharply  differentiated  both  in  ideals 
and  methods. 

Further,  in  each  of  these  main  divisions  there  seem  to 
"be  three  possible  stages  in  conveying  ideas.  First  of 
all,  there  is  simple  presentation.  That  is,  some  facts 
serve  their  intended  purpose  when  they  are  merely 
stated,  their  values  and  their  relationships  becoming  at 
once  apparent.  A  large  part  of  all  artistic  discourse 
belongs  in  this  class.  But  oftentimes  simple  presenta- 
tion does  not  go  as  far  as  is  necessary.  Either  the 
ideas  are  not  in  that  way  made  sufficiently  clear,  or  the 
writer  wishes  to  draw  inferences  from  them.  This 
requires  a  second  stage  in  presentation:  the  facts 
must  be  explained  and  interpreted.  But  sometimes 
even  this  second  stage  is  not  sufficient.  The  interpre- 
tation may  be  in  dispute.  In  this  case  the  third  and 
last  stage  becomes  necessary:  the  writer  must  now 
resort  to  argument  and  persuasion. 

The  direct  work  of  description  is  largely  in  the  first 
of  these  three  divisions.  According  to  this  view,  de- 
scription and  narration  together  cover  all  the  work 
done  in  simple  presentation.  Since  their  methods  and 
purposes  are  much  the  same,  they  frequently  mingle 
one  with  the  other.  It  is  only  with  the  handling  of 
action  that  the  two  fall  apart,  and  even  here  the  dif- 
ference is  not  so  great  as  is  often  supposed.  Descrip- 
tion may  present  action,  if  the  action  is  duly  sub- 
ordinated and  does  not  bring  about  a  significant  change 


LES  SING'S  LAOCOON  269 

in  the  object.  In  narration,  on  the  other  hand,  action 
is  essential.  It  is  the  organizing  force  in  this  kind  of 
composition  and  brings  about  significant  changes  in  the 
object  treated.  But  the  two  types  are  so  nearly  allied 
that  it  is  not  always  wise  to  attempt  to  differentiate 
them. 

Hereafter,  then,  I  shall  consider  description  as  being 
chiefly  a  kind  of  presentation,  though  it  is  sometimes 
interpretative  as  well.  The  type's  limits  will  accord- 
ingly be  somewhat  broader  than  those  usually  assigned 
to  it.  It  will  be  held  to  include  much  that  is  at  present 
thought  of  as  exposition.  It  is  to  contain  unpictur- 
esque  as  well  as  picturesque  material;  and  it  may  be 
used  to  convey  matter-of-fact  information  as  well  as  to 
cause  objects,  states,  and  conditions  to  be  vividly 
realized.  Perhaps  it  may  be  thought  that  this  is  ex- 
tending the  limits  too  far,  but  if  so,  it  is  not  because  of 
the  admission  of  expository  material  but  rather  because 
some  presentative  material,  artistic  as  well  as  scientific, 
is  so  intangible  and  incorporeal  that  the  presentation 
of  it  lacks  the  sensuousness  which  we  generally  asso- 
ciate with  the  term  description. 


VI 


The  Nature  of  Mental  Imagery 
HUS  far  I  have  treated  description  as  if  it 


could  make  but  one  kind  of  sensuous  appeal, 


-JL-  namely,  to  the  organ  of  vision.  I  have  been 
justified  in  so  doing,  because  that  is  the  only  type 
of  description  that  Lessing  treated.  But  if  the  dis- 
cussion had  been  entirely  independent,  I  should  still 
have  been  justified  in  beginning  with  visual  description. 
The  reason  is  that  the  eye  is  by  far  the  most  skillful  of 
the  sense  organs.  Impressions  received  in  other  ways 
are  comparatively  crude.  It  is  the  eye  that  gives  us 
the  most  clearly  defined  and  the  most  easily  presented 
impressions.  It  goes  so  much  farther  than  any  other 
sense  that  in  general  what  is  true  of  the  others  is  also 
true  of  it.  It  is,  in  a  word,  the  most  representative  of 
all  the  sense  organs. 

But  we  do  not  get  all  our  sense  impressions  through 
the  eye  alone.  The  normal  man  also  hears,  smells, 
feels,  tastes,  and  moves.  Each  sense  gives  him  a  share 
of  his  experience.  Impressions  obtained  in  any  of  these 
ways  are  fit  material  for  description,  and  description, 
if  it  is  to  do  all  of  which  it  is  capable,  must  hold  itself 
in  readiness  to  make  appeal  to  any  of  the  senses.  For 
instance,  how  ineffective  would  be  a  description  of 
roast  beef  that  left  out  of  account  the  savor !  Why  are 
we  so  much  pleased  with  the  description  of  Calypso's 
grotto1  if  it  is  not  that  it  seems  to  make  all  the  senses 
tingle?  Language  can  appeal  to  every  sense,  and  the 
writer  fails  to  have  a  mastery  of  his  instrument  if  he 

1 — Odyssey,  Book  V. 


270 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


271 


cannot  suggest  for  his  reader  the  same  wealth  and  vari- 
ety of  impressions  that  he  finds  in  life.  Description, 
then,  embraces  all  kinds  of  sensuous  appeal. 

But  just  in  the  number  and  extent  of  these  possibili- 
ties are  to  be  found  important  limitations  of  which,  I 
fear,  many  descriptive  writers  are  totally  unaware.  It 
is  still  not  generally  known,  at  least  in  a  practical  way, 
that  people  differ  very  greatly  in  the  sensuous  nature 
of  their  mental  imagery.  A  person  who  is  a  good 
visualizer, — that  is,  one  who  sees  the  appropriate 
picture  arise  in  the  mind's  eye  whenever  he  hears  the 
name  of  an  object— is  naturally  of  the  opinion  that 
other  people  must  be  similarly  constituted.  The  good 
visualizer  finds  it  hard  to  understand  how  those  who 
are  without  the  faculty  can  think  at  all.  Nevertheless 
there  are  many  persons  who  have  no  visual  images 
worthy  of  the  name.  They  perform  all  their  mental 
processes — remembering,  thinking,  imagining — in  other 
ways.  The  differences  in  this  respect  are  so  marked 
that  men  may  be  classified  under  various  types  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  of  their  mental  imagery.  Some  per- 
sons imagine  chiefly  in  terms  of  sight,  others  in  terms 
of  sound,  others  in  terms  of  muscle  sensations,  etc. 
These  differences  are  so  important  for  the  understand- 
ing of  descriptive  effects,  that  a  somewhat  extended 
treatment  of  them  will  be  necessary  at  this  point. 

According  to  James,  Galton  was  the  first  to  develop 
this  subject.  His  method  was  to  submit  printed  ques- 
tions to  a  large  number  of  persons.1 

"The  first  group  .  .  .  related  to  the  illumination, 
definition,  and  coloring  of  the  mental  image,  and  were 
framed  thus : 

"  'Before  addressing  yourself  to  any  of  the  Questions 

1 — The  closely  printed  matter  that  follows  is  taken  mainly 
from  James's  Principles  of  Psychology. 


272 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


on  the  opposite  page,  think  of  some  definite  object — 
suppose  it  is  your  breakfast-table  as  you  sat  down  to 
it  this  morning — and  consider  carefully  the  picture 
that  rises  before  your  mind's  eye. 

"  *  1.  Illumination.  —  Is  the  image  dim  or  fairly 
clear?  Is  its  brightness  comparable  to  that  of  the 
actual  scene? 

"  '2.  Definition. — Are  all  the  objects  pretty  well 
defined  at  the  same  time,  or  is  the  place  of  sharpest 
definition  at  any  one  moment  more  contracted  than  it 
is  in  a  real  scene  ? 

"  '3.  Coloring. — Are  the  colors  of  the  china,  of  the 
toast,  bread-crust,  mustard,  meat,  parsley,  or  whatever 
may  have  been  on  the  table,  quite  distinct  and  natural  ? ' 

"The  earliest  results  of  my  inquiry  amazed  me.  I 
had  begun  by  questioning  friends  in  the  scientific 
world,  as  they  were  the  most  likely  class  of  men  to  give 
accurate  answers  concerning  this  faculty  of  visualizing, 
to  which  novelists  and  poets  continually  allude.  .  .  . 
To  my  astonishment,  I  found  that  a  great  majority  of 
the  men  of  science  to  whom  I  first  applied  protested 
that  mental  imagery  was  unknown  to  them,  and  they 
looked  on  me  as  fanciful  and  fantastic  in  supposing 
that  the  words  'mental  imagery'  really  expressed  what 
I  believed  everybody  supposed  them  to  mean.  They 
had  no  more  notion  of  its  true  nature  than  a  color-blind 
man,  who  has  not  discerned  his  defect,  has  of  the 
nature  of  color.    .    .  . 

"On  the  other  hand,  when  I  spoke  to  persons  whom 
I  met  in  general  society,  I  found  an  entirely  different 
disposition  to  prevail.  Many  men  and  a  yet  larger 
number  of  women,  and  many  boys  and  girls,  declared 
that  they  habitually  saw  mental  imagery,  and  that  it 
was  perfectly  distinct  to  them  and  full  of  color.   .   .   . ' y 

Galton  found  that  scientific  men  as  a  class  have  feeble 
powers  of  visual  representation.  ' '  My  own  conclusion  is, ' ' 
he  says,  "that  an  over-ready  perception  of  sharp  men- 
tal pictures  is  antagonistic  to  the  requirement  of  habits 
of  highly  generalized  and  abstract  thought,  especially 
when  the  steps  of  reasoning  are  carried  on  by  words 
as  symbols,  and  that  if  the  faculty  of  seeing  pictures 


LESSTNG'S  LAOCOON 


273 


was  ever  possessed  by  men  who  think  hard,  it  is  very 
apt  to  be  lost  by  disuse.  ...  I  am,  however,  bound  to 
say  that  the  missing  faculty  seems  to  be  replaced  so 
serviceably  by  other  modes  of  conception,  chiefly,  I  be- 
lieve, connected  with  the  incipient  motor  sense,  not  of 
the  eyeballs  only  but  of  the  muscles  generally,  that 
men  who  declare  themselves  entirely  deficient  in  the 
power  of  seeing  mental  pictures  can  nevertheless  give 
lifelike  descriptions  of  what  they  have  seen,  and  can 
otherwise  express  themselves  as  if  they  were  gifted 
with  a  vivid  visual  imagination.1  They  can  also  be- 
come painters  of  the  rank  of  Royal  Academicians.  .  .  . 

"It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  sharp  sight  is  ac- 
companied by  clear  visual  memory.  I  have  not  a  few 
instances  in  which  the  independence  of  the  two  facul- 
ties is  emphatically  commented  on.  .  .  .  The  visualiz- 
ing and  identifying  powers  are  by  no  means  necessarily 
combined.  A  distinguished  writer  on  metaphysical 
topics  assures  me  that  he  is  exceptionally  quick  at  rec- 
ognizing a  face  that  he  has  seen  before,  but  that  he 
cannot  call  up  a  mental  image  of  any  face  with  clear- 
ness. 

"Some  persons  have  the  power  of  combining  in  a 
single  perception  more  than  can  be  seen  at  any  one 
moment  by  the  two  eyes.  ...  I  find  that  a  few  persons 

1 — Cf.  the  following  description  by  Mr.  Eobert  Holliday.  This 
writer,  as  I  know  from  personal  acquaintance,  is  not  of  the  visual 
type, — he  is  largely  motor, — yet  not  only  can  he  write  descriptions 
like  the  following  but  he  also  has  skill  as  an  artist : 

"The  penmanship  completely  surpassed  my  highest  expectation. 
It  was  a  revelation.  .  .  .  That  a  human  creature  could  create  such 
illuminations  with  simple  pen  and  ink  was  marvelous.  It  was  the 
gentleman  of  the  old-school  style  of  penmanship  carried  to  excess. 
The  up-strokes  were  amazingly  fine,  and  the  down-strokes  as  amaz- 
ingly heavy;  the  capitals  were  dreams  of  flourishes,  flourishes  that 
went  round  and  round,  like  pin- wheels,  and  interwined  and  encircled 
each  other ;  in  some  places  they  were  as  thin  as  a  hair,  and  in  some 
places  as  broad  as  the  eighth  of  an  inch.  They  mixed  up  with  small 
•letters  and  lost  themselves  among  them,  and  reappeared  further  on 
down  the  line.  '  It  was  made  with  the  whole-arm  movement, '  ex- 
plained Murphy,  and  I  believe  him.  In  a  mental  picture  now  I  can 
see  that  talented  and  accomplished  man  push  back  his  cuff  and 
sway  his  whole  arm  from  the  shoulder,  around  and  around,  prepar- 
ing to  begin." — E.  C.  Holliday,  A  Conspiracy. 


274 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


can,  by  what  they  often  describe  as  a  kind  of  touch- 
sight,  visualize  at  the  same  moment  all  round  the  image 
of  a  solid  body.  .  .  .  Some  persons  have  the  habit  of 
viewing  objects  as  though  they  were  partly  trans- 
parent. .  .  .  They  can  also  perecive  all  the  rooms  of 
an  imaginary  house  by  a  single  mental  glance,  the  walls 
and  floors  being  as  if  made  of  glass.  A  fourth  class  of 
persons  have  the  habit  of  recalling  scenes,  not  from  the 
point  of  view  whence  they  were  observed,  but  from  a 
distance,  and  they  visualize  their  own  selves  as  actors 
on  the  mental  stage.  By  one  or  other  of  these  ways, 
the  power  of  seeing  the  whole  of  an  object,  and  not 
merely  one  aspect  of  it,  is  possessed  by  many  persons. 

"Images  usually  do  not  become  stronger  by  dwelling 
on  them;1  the  first  idea  is  commonly  the  most  vigorous, 
but  this  is  not  always  the  case.  Sometimes  the  mental 
view  of  the  locality  is  inseparably  connected  with  the 
sense  of  its  position  as  regards  the  points  of  the  com- 
pass, real  or  imaginary.    .  . 

We  see,  then,  that  people  differ  much  in  the  nature 
of  their  mental  imagery.  Even  those  of  the  visual  type 
imagine  in  several  different  ways.  But  all  are  not 
visualists.  Those  who  are  not,  that  is,  those  who  do 
not  think  and  remember  in  terms  of  images  of  sight, 
use  other  mental  material.  They  belong  to  other  types, 
of  which  the  two  most  important  are  the  auditory  and 
the  motor  or  motile. 

"The  auditory  type,"  says  M.  A.  Binet,  "appears  to 
be  rarer  than  the  visual.  Persons  of  this  type  imagine 
what  they  think  of  in  the  language  of  sound.  In  order 
to  remember  a  lesson  they  impress  upon  their  mind, 
not  the  look  of  the  page,  but  the  sound  of  the  words. 
They  reason,  as  well  as  remember,  by  ear.  .  .  .  Im- 
agination also  takes  the  auditory  form.  'When  I  write 
a  scene,'  said  Legouve  to  Scribe,  'I  hear;  but  you  see. 
In  each  phrase  which  I  write,  the  voice  of  the  person- 

3 — For  a  more  detailed  treatment  of  this  question,  cf.  A  Pre 
liminary  Study  of  the  Behavior  of  Mental  Images,  J.  W.  Slaughter, 
Am.  Journal  of  Psychology,  vol.  XIII,  p.  526  f. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


275 


age  who  speaks  strikes  my  ear.  Yous,  qui  etes  le  theatre 
meme,  your  actors  walk,  gesticulate  before  your  eyes; 
I  am  a  listener,  you  a  spectator.'  'Nothing  more  true,' 
says  Scribe.    .    .  . 

"The  motor  type,"  continues  Binet,  "remains  per- 
haps the  most  interesting  of  all,  and  certainly  the  one 
of  which  least  is  known.  Persons  who  belong  to  this 
type  make  use,  in  memory,  reasoning,  and  all  their 
intellectual  operations,  of  images  derived  from  move- 
ment. In  order  to  understand  this  important  point,  it 
is  enough  to  remember  that  'all  our  perceptions,  and  in 
particular  the  important  ones,  those  of  sight  and  touch, 
contain  as  integral  elements  the  movements  of  our 
eyes  and  limbs ;  and  that,  if  movement  is  ever  an  es- 
sential factor  in  our  really  seeing  an  object,  it  must  be 
an  equally  essential  factor  when  we  see  the  same  object 
in  imagination'  (Ribot).  For  example,  the  complex 
impressions  of  a  ball,  which  is  there,  in  our  hand,  is  the 
result  of  optical  impressions  of  touch,  of  muscular  ad- 
justments of  the  eye,  of  the  movements  of  our  fingers, 
■and  of  the  muscular  sensations  which  these  yield. 
When  we  imagine  the  ball,  its  idea  must  include  the 
images  of  these  muscular  sensations,  just  as  it  includes 
those  of  the  retinal  and  epidermal  sensations.  They 
form  so  many  motor  images." 

To  quote  from  James: 

"Professor  Strieker  of  Vienna,  who  seems  to  have 
the  motile  form  of  imagination  developed  in  unusual 
strength,  has  given  a  very  careful  analysis  of  his  own 
case  in  a  couple  of  monographs.  .  .  .  His  recollections 
both  of  his  own  movements  and  of  those  of  other  things 
are  accompanied  invariably  by  distinct  muscular  feel- 
ings in  those  parts  of  his  body  which  would  naturally 
be  used  in  effecting  or  in  following  the  movement.  In 
thinking  of  a  soldier  marching,  for  example,  it  is  as  if 
he  were  helping  the  image  to  march  by  marching  him- 
self in  his  rear.  And  if  he  suppresses  this  sympathetic 
feeling  in  his  own  legs,  and  concentrates  all  his  atten- 
tion on  the  imagined  soldier,  the  latter  becomes,  as  it 
were,  paralyzed.    In  general  his  imagined  movements, 


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of  whatsoever  objects,  seem  paralyzed  the  moment  no 
feelings  of  movement  either  in  his  own  eyes  or  in  his 
own  limbs  accompany  them." 

One  branch  of  this  general  motor  form  of  imagina- 
tion is  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  thought  of  as  a 
separate  type.  It  is  known  as  the  verbal  type.  With- 
out visual,  auditory,  or  tactile  imagery,  the  subject 
simply  knoivs.  He  goes  no  farther  in  his  efforts  to 
imagine  than  the  mere  statement  of  the  words  that  act 
as  symbols  for  his  thought.  When  he  thinks  of  "red," 
for  instance,  he  does  not  see  the  color,  but  his  speech 
organs  feel  the  impulse  to  say  the  word  "red."  If  by 
any  means  they  are  entirely  prevented  from  going 
through  this  impulse,  then  the  mind — like  Professor 
Strieker's  soldier — seems  paralyzed;  it  cannot  think  or 
imagine  the  idea  at  all. 

Probably  the  verbal  type  of  imagery  is  used  by  al- 
most everyone  for  certain  kinds  of  mental  work,  par- 
ticularly for  abstract  thinking.  For  this  reason,  if  for 
no  other,  it  must  be  reckoned  with ;  but  from  what  has 
been  said  it  is  evident  that  the  verbal  type  stands 
somewhat  apart  from  the  others.  The  visual,  auditory, 
olfactory,  tactile,  and  the  part  of  the  motor  type  not 
verbal, — each  of  these  presents  its  imagery  in  the  very 
form  in  which  the  object  is  perceived  by  the  senses. 
The  verbal  type,  on  the  other  hand,  corresponds  to  no 
special  sense.  Being  entirely  symbolic,  it  does  no  more 
than  to  present  information.  Although  it  is  effective 
for  all  of  the  senses  in  turn,  it  is  not  the  immediate 
representation  of  any  one. 

We  see  from  the  foregoing  that  the  audience  which 
the  descriptive  writer  addresses  is  very  heterogeneous 
in  respect  to  its  instruments  of  appreciation.  Some 
readers  do  a  large  part  of  their  imagining  in  visual 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


277 


concepts,  others  in  auditory,  others  in  motor,  and  so 
on.  This  does  not  mean  that  each  person  is  restricted 
to  just  one  type  of  mental  imagery,  but  that  most  are 
to  a  greater  or  less  extent  limited  in  the  number  of 
types  of  imagination  at  their  service.  This  limitation 
is  important  for  our  theory.  It  makes  Clear  to  us  that 
no  sensuous  description  will  be  realized  in  the  same 
form  by  all,  and  that  while  one  class  of  details  will 
arouse  direct  sense  impressions  for  one  class  of  readers, 
for  another  class  they  will  do  no  more  than  to  present 
information. 

Let  us  illustrate.  Suppose  a  writer  has  described 
for  us  a  fire-engine  rushing  down  the  street.  The  de- 
scription tells  us  first  of  the  appearance  of  the  scene, 
of  the  outward  aspect  of  the  firemen  and  the  horses. 
Into  this  picture  there  are  then  interwoven  the  various 
noises,  that  we  know  are  characteristic,  such  as  the 
clatter,  the  shouts,  the  clanging  of  the  gong,  etc. 
Finally  the  writer  tries  to  show  us  the  strain  and 
movement  that  pervade  the  scene.  Thus  various 
senses  are  appealed  to.  What  will  be  the  effect  upon 
the  reader?  If  his  imagination  is  of  the  purely  visual 
type,  all  that  appeals  to  the  eye  will  be  reproduced  in 
his  mind  as  visual  imagery ;  all  else — that  is  the  sounds, 
movements,  etc. — will  be  merely  information  to  him.  It 
will  not  be  realized  as  sensuous  imagery.  For  the 
auditory  reader,  on  the  other  hand,  it  will  be  the 
various  sounds  which  will  be  imagined  in  their  direct 
form,  and  all  else  will  be  information.  Thus  for  each 
class  of  readers  using  but  one  type  of  mental  imagery, 
there  will  be  a  certain  part  of  the  description  which 
will  be  imagined  sensuously  and  another  part  which 
can  hardly  be  thought  of  as  imagined  at  all — it  will  be 
merely  acquired  as  information;  and  what  will  belong 


278 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


to  one  part  and  what  to  the  other  will  depend  largely 
upon  the  type  of  imagination  the  reader  uses.  If  he 
can  use  several  types,  he  will  find  less  in  the  descrip- 
tion which  must  be  considered  as  mere  information ; 
but,  to  take  an  extreme  case,  if  a  person  were  so  re- 
stricted that  he  had  to  use  the  verbal  type  in  all  his 
mental  processes,  then  for  him  the  most  sensuous  of 
descriptions,  as  well  as  the  most  abstract,  could  do  no 
more  than  to  present  information. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  way  of  overcoming  entirely  the 
difficulties  we  have  just  brought  to  notice;  they  must 
be  considered  as  natural  limitations  of  the  type.  Never- 
theless the  descriptive  writer  may  to  an  extent  obviate 
the  inconvenience  by  making  his  work  appeal  to  as 
many  senses  as  possible.  This  method  has  the  advan- 
tage of  giving  at  least  a  few  sensuous  impressions  to 
each  class  of  readers.  It  has  also  another  advantage. 
Psychologists  know  that  the  senses  mutually  strengthen 
each  other  when  used  simultaneously.  James  remarks1 
that  patches  of  color  held  so  far  off  as  not  to  be  recog- 
nizable are  immediately  and  correctly  perceived  when 
a  tuning-fork  is  sounded  close  to  the  ear,  and  that 
sounds  which  are  on  the  limits  of  audibility  become 
audible  when  lights  of  various  colors  are  exhibited  to 
the  eye.  I  do  not  know  of  any  experiments  that  have 
been  tried  with  the  special  purpose  of  determining  the 
effect  of  one  kind  of  mental  image  upon  another,  but  it 
would  seem  that  the  same  principle  ought  to  hold  here 
as  in  direct  sensation.  That  is,  if  various  senses  are 
appealed  to  in  the  reader,  then  those  kinds  of  impres- 
sions which  are  most  easily  realized  will  bring  out  other 
kinds  naturally  associated  with  them  in  experience. 


1 — Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  p.  29  f. 


LESSTNG'S  LAOCOON 


279 


Thus  it  is  said1  that  the  mentioning  of  odors  and  per- 
fumes oftentimes  seems  to  have  special  power  in  call- 
ing out  associated  visual  impressions. 

In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  the 
type  of  imagery  which  is  most  often  effective  in  bring- 
ing out  these  related  sense  impressions  is  the  motor 
type.  Lessing,  as  we  have  seen,  advocated  the  pro- 
gressive kind  of  description,  which  uses  at  least  one 
kind  of  motor  presentation,  and  almost  all  theorists 
since  his  time  have  likewise  advocated  the  use  of  mo- 
tion, in  some  form,  in  description.  The  reason  gener- 
ally assigned2  has  been  that  language  is  better  fitted 
to  express  action  than  to  express  rest.  But  this  reason, 
as  I  shall  attempt  to  show  later,  is  wrong,  though  the 
idea  which  it  is  supposed  to  support  is  without  ques- 
tion right.  In  my  opinion  the  real  cause  why  motion 
'  is  so  effective  in  description  is  two-fold.  First,  motion 
enters  not  only  largely  but  almost  inseparably  into 
many  forms  of  experience ;  and  secondly,  though  this 
needs  confirmation,  most  persons  seem  to  be  somewhat 
motor  in  imagination,  and  therefore  ideas  expressing 
motion  are  almost  universally  realized  in  their  own 
sensuous  forms,  and  in  this  realization  bring  up,  at 
least  faintly,  other  sensuous  impressions  with  which 
they  are  very  closely  connected. 

l~Cf.  C.  S.  Baldwin,  Specimens  of  Prose  Description,  p.  xii  f. 
2 — Cf.  Koyce,  Some  Becent  Studies  on  Ideas  of  Motion,  Science, 
Nov.  30,  1883. 


VII 


Limitations  and  Possibilities  of  Description  Due  to  its 
Instrument  of  Expression 

IN  Part  IV  we  discussed  the  limitations  imposed 
upon  description  by  its  medium  of  expression. 
We  learned  that  this  medium  differs  essentially 
from  that  employed  by  the  formative  arts  in  that 
it  is  symbolic  while  their  medium  is  directly  pre- 
sentative.  Thus  a  painting  gives  us  so  nearly  the  same 
sensations  as  the  reality  that  under  certain  conditions 
the  one  may  be  easily  mistaken  for  the  other.  So  too 
in  music,  we  like  the  sequences  and  combinations  of 
sound,  not  because  they  stand  for  something  apart  from 
what  they  are,  but  for  their  own  inherent  beauty.  But 
poetry  and  prose,  although  they  may  have  a  music  in- 
herent in  their  spoken  words,  are  chiefly  concerned 
with  the  expressing  and  transmitting  of  ideas  by 
means  of  a  written  and  spoken  symbolism.  Their  chief 
peculiarity,  as  contrasted  with  the  formative  arts,  is 
that  the  words  they  use  as  a  medium  of  expression  are 
interesting  not  for  what  they  are  but  for  what  they 
represent.  This  characteristic  gives  to  literature  cer- 
tain advantages  and  also  certain  disadvantages. 

We  may  say  for  each  of  the  formative  arts,  such  as 
painting  or  music,  that  it  has  a  special  field  imposed 
upon  it  by  the  sensuous  medium  it  employs.  Painting, 
for  instance,  should  not  aim  to  represent  sounds,  nor 
music  visual  pictures,  if  each  is  to  do  the  work  for 
which  it  is  best  suited.  But  if  we  seek  the  particular 
field  in  which  literature  can  do  its  best,  we  soon  dis- 
cover that  literature  has  no  special  sensuous  field  in 


280 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


281 


which  it  can  appeal  to  us  directly.  Everywhere  it  is 
symbolic, — doubly  symbolic,  we  may  say,  for  it  can 
use  either  a  spoken  or  a  written  symbolism  to  express 
exactly  the  same  ideas. 

As  a  result  of  the  peculiar  nature  of  its  medium  of 
expression,  literature  has  at  least  one  great  advantage 
over  any  of  the  formative  arts.  Its  range  is  as  broad 
as  .experience  itself.  It  can  express  any  kind  of  ideas, 
true  or  imagined.  It  can  set  at  naught  time,  space, 
and  the  recognized  facts  of  experience.  It  can  present 
the  sensuous  and  the  non-sensuous  with  like  ease.  It 
can  analyze,  synthesize,  and  generalize  to  any  degree  of 
which  the  mind  is  capable.  It  can  express  equally  well, 
movement  or  rest.  It  can  work  rapidly  or  slowly.  In 
its  marvelous  range  and  flexibility,  language  affords 
to  literature  the  most  perfect  instrument  of  expression 
'imaginable. 

But  symbolism  is  not  without  some  disadvantages. 
At  best  it  is  an  indirect  means  of  portrayal,  and  the 
signs  it  uses — at  least  in  the  case  of  language — are 
made  to  stand  very  arbitrarily  for  the  things  they  sig- 
nify. The  direct  sensations  conveyed  through  words 
have  to  be  translated  into  thought-units  of  a  quite  dif- 
ferent kind.  This  process  cannot  but  bring  about  a  loss 
in  the  intensity  of  the  impression.  Suppose,  for  exam- 
ple, that  such  a  word  as  " knife"  does  call  up  in  the 
mind  of  the  reader  a  correct  visual  picture, — and  very 
often  this  does  not  happen, — even  then  there  will  be 
a  loss  in  effectiveness,  because,  as  is  well  known,  the 
remembered  image  is  never  so  vivid  as  the  direct  sen- 
sation. Thus  we  see  that  language  cannot  compete 
with  reality  in  intensity,  and  since  the  formative  arts 
present  their  impressions  directly,  using  the  same  sen- 
sations as  the  reality,  they  have  literature  at  a  great 


282 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


disadvantage  in  this  respect.  Literature  cannot  hope 
to  be  as  sensuously  intense  as  the  formative  arts  in 
their  natural  fields.1 

But  lack  of  sensuous  vividness  is  not  the  only  dis- 
advantage at  which  literature  is  placed  because  of  its 
instrument  of  expression.  We  have  noted  in  a  pre- 
ceding part  of  this  essay  that  words  do  not  mean  the 
same  for  all  hearers  or  readers,  and  that  mental  imag- 
ery is  a  very  personal  affair,  resting  on  a  basis  of  indi- 
vidual aptitude  and  experience.  Not  only  do  persons 
differ  in  the  types  of  imagination  they  can  use,  but 
even  for  those  of  the  same  type  the  imagery  suggested 
by  a  given  word  is  hardly  ever  identical  for  all.  That 
brings  us  again  to  the  very  hard  problem:  How  is  it 
possible  to  suggest  the  same  picture  to  all  readers  when 
the  words  used  may  mean  different  things  for  each? 
We  have  confessed  that  the  difficulty  seems  at  least  in 
part  insurmountable,  but  let  us  discuss  this  subject  now 
more  in  detail. 

First  of  all,  there  are  cases  in  which  the  writer  has. 
some  chance  for  success.  For  instance,  if  it  is  his  task 
simply  to  call  to  mind  an  object  already  sensuously 
known  to  the  reader,  he  ought  not  to  have  much  diffi- 
culty in  achieving  his  purpose,  for  in  this  case  writer 
and  reader  have  a  common  basis  in  experience.  Thus 
in  describing  a  portrait  of  Washington  a  writer  should 
be  able  to  suggest,  at  least  to  every  American,  an 
almost  identical  conception,  because  we  have  all  seen 
portraits  of  Washington.  In  this  case  the  writer  is  not 
called  upon  to  build  up  an  entirely  new  image,  he  has 

1 — I  say,  11  sensuously  intense,"  because  when  it  comes  to  con- 
veying thoughts  and  feelings,  the  case  is  different.  Thoughts  and 
feelings  may  go  beyond  what  sensuous  imagery  directly  expresses. 
Thus  for  certain  purposes  literature  may  possess  a  more  effective 
instrument  for  intense  expression  than  any  of  the  formative  arts. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


merely  to  recall  to  the  reader  material  that  is  already 
stored  in  his  mind. 

A  more  difficult  case  is  that  in  which  a  writer 
attempts  to  describe  to  an  unknown  reader  an  object 
which  the  latter  has  not  seen.  But  here  again  there  is 
not  always  the  same  degree  of  difficulty.  If  the  object 
described  is  a  very  simple  one,  with  the  parts  few  and 
clearly  related,  there  will  be  more  chance  for  success 
than  if  the  object  is  complicated.  Thus  it  is  easier  to 
describe  a  door  than  a  house.  Suppose,  for  instance,  I 
wish  to  convey  to  a  reader  the  exact  appearance  of  the 
house  that  Mr.  M.  lives  in.  What  will  be  my  difficul- 
ties? In  the  first  place,  everything  I  say  will  be  inter- 
preted in  the  light  of  the  reader's  experience,  not  in 
that  of  my  own.  He  has  seen  innumerable  varieties  of 
.  houses,  but  perhaps  the  type  most  readily  suggested  to 
him  is  very  unlike  the  one  of  which  I  am  thinking. 
Now  I  can  control  his  notions  to  some  extent  by  saying 
that  the  house  is  large,  of  red  brick,  etc.  These  added 
details  help  immensely  by  limiting  the  range  of  selec- 
tion, but  they  hardly  make  it  possible  for  me  to  achieve 
complete  success,  for  there  are  so  many  kinds  of  large 
red-brick  houses  that  even  the  limited  concepts  may  be 
almost  as  divergent  as  they  were  before.  Also  when  I 
begin  to  mention  different  parts  of  the  house,  I  meet 
new  difficulties,  because  the  reader  will  probably  have 
his  individual  concept  for  each  new  detail  I  add.  For 
instance,  I  tell  him  the  house  has  a  porch.  Not  only 
will  he  be  likely  to  imagine  the  wrong  kind  of  porch, 
but  he  will  also  be  likely  to  join  it  to  the  house  at  the 
wrong  place.  Thus  the  trouble  grows,  until  at  last,  if 
my  description  is  very  long,  I  may  suggest  to  my  reader 
nothing  but  hopeless  confusion. 

Another  source  of  difficulty  in  description  is  that  the 


284 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


concepts  suggested  are  not  only  different  in  themselves 
from  the  ideas  the  writer  intended,  but  they  are  also 
likely  to  bring  along  with  them  into  the  mental  picture 
irrelevant  details  that  confuse  the  reader.  Thus  to  say 
that  a  building  is  of  red  brick  may  suggest  many  things 
that  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  materials,  such  as  the 
shape,  size,  etc.  In  actual  seeing,  the  field  of  vision,  as 
was  explained  in  Part  III,  has  of  necessity  a  center  or 
focus  of  attention,  and  around  this  there  is  a  fringe  or 
background  that  is  less  distinct.  Now  since  our  men- 
tal imagery  is  made  up  of  reproductions  of  things  we 
have  actually  seen,  these  reproductions,  though  they 
may  come  back  to  us  in  modified  forms,  bring  with 
them  the  accompaniments  which  they  had  in  actual 
seeing.  Each  detail,  therefore,  as  it  is  mentioned,  may 
bring  up  with  it  a  background  that  is  entirely  irrele- 
vant. 

These  difficulties  of  description  may  be  illustrated  by 
a  simple  experiment.  Suppose  that  wishing  to  describe 
a  friend  I  begin  by  stating  that  he  has  an  aquiline  nose. 
What  will  be  the  effect  of  this  statement  on  my  descrip- 
tion? In  the  first  place,  since  aquiline  noses  differ- 
somewhat  in  their  shapes,  I  may  not  suggest  exactly  the 
same  picture  to  all.  But  that  will  not  be  my  main 
difficulty.  This  will  arise  from  the  fact  that  we  are 
accustomed  to  seeing  noses  in  connection  with  faces, 
and  so  when  I  mention  a  particular  kind  of  nose,  if  I 
call  up  any  image  at  all,  I  am  more  than  likely  to  suggest 
a  face  along  with  it,  and  this  face  may  have  no  resem- 
blance whatever  to  the  one  I  have  in  mind. 

To  discover  how  different  the  results  might  be  for 
different  readers,  I  tried  the  following  experiment  on 
my  students.  I  asked  them  whether  the  sentence,  1  'This 
person  has  an  aquiline  nose,"  suggested  the  particular 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


285 


kind  of  nose  by  itself,  or  a  nose  as  part  of  a  face,  and 
if  the  latter,  what  kind  of  face  was  suggested.  In  an- 
swer to  the  question  some  stated  that  they  saw  no  vis- 
ual image  at  all ;  but  all  who  did  see  a  nose  saw  also  a 
background  of  some  familiar  face.  Here  are  some  of 
their  statements : 

"He  had  an  extremely  masculine  face — very  long 
and  thin,  with  a  very  prominent  long  chin — light  com- 
plexion— blue  eyes." 

"In  my  mind  I  see  the  face  of  a  four-year-old  girl 
friend — light  curly  hair — ruddy  complexion — promi- 
nent forehead." 

"The  face  of  a  man  whose  forehead  is  half  circled 
with  a  mass  of  black  hair — small,  sharp,  piercing  eyes — 
firm,  medium-sized  mouth." 

"When  aquiline  nose  is  mentioned  I  think  of  a  broad 
forehead,  deep-set  eyes,  and  broad  face  with  high  cheek 
bones." 

"The  face  I  see  is  a  broad,  good-natured  face  with 
twinkling  eves — the  face  of  a  man  about  forty  years 
old." 

"Sharp  nose — long  slim  face — face  not  very  full." 

Now  if  these  are  fair  samples  of  the  results  that  may 
be  obtained  by  using  such  a  simple  descriptive  phrase 
as  ' 1  aquiline  nose, ' '  we  can  readily  see  that  photographic 
description  is  an  impossibility.  If  every  other  detail 
mentioned  should  in  like  manner  bring  up  its  own 
irrelevant  background,  by  the  time  one  had  presented 
a  half-dozen  ideas  about  the  face,  what  a  confusion  of 
backgrounds  the  reader  would  have!  "Aquiline  nose" 
might  suggest  an  old  man;  "blue  eyes,"  a  young  girl; 
"blonde  mustache,"  a  face  still  different;  and  so  on. 
How  could  one  fuse  all  this  together  into  one  picture? 
To  be  sure,  the  case  is  not  generally  so  bad  as  here  pre- 
sented. It  is  not  necessary  that  each  word  should 
bring  up  a  separate  image.    As  I  have  said  before,  we 


286 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


read  in  word-groups, — a  number  may  go  together  to 
produce  a  single  image.  Nevertheless  each  group,  be 
it  large  or  small,  is  very  likely  to  call  up  with  it  irrele- 
vant details,  and  if  we  permit  too  many  of  these  groups 
to  cover  the  same  image-territory,  the  result  may  well 
be  that  the  irrelevant  details  will  interfere  with  each 
other  and  obscure  or  confuse  the  whole  picture. 

For  me  such  is  the  effect  of  the  following  descrip- 
tion by  a  distinguished  man  of  letters : 

"He  came  into  the  room  a  quaint,  stump  figure  of  a 
man,  whose  effect  of  long  trunk  and  short  limbs  was 
heightened  by  his  fashionless  trousers  being  let  down 
too  low.  He  had  a  noble  face,  with  tossed  hair,  a  dis- 
traught eye,  and  a  fine  aquilinity  of  profile,  which  made 
me  think  at  once  of  Don  Quixote  and  of  Cervantes ;  but 
his  nose  failed  to  add  that  foot  to  his  stature  which 
Lamb  says  a  nose  of  that  shape  will  always  give  a 
man. " 

This  description  confuses  me  not  so  much  by  the 
number  of  details  as  by  the  incongruity  of  the  things 
listed.  I  have  material  enough  here  for  three  or  four 
pictures,  and  since  my  visual  images  are  rather  weak 
and  also  under  poor  control,  I  am  not  able  to  fuse  these 
various  pictures  together.  The  separate  details  will  not 
harmonize. 

In  actual  observation  no  such  difficulty  exists.  "When 
I  look  at  a  picture,  the  background  that  I  see  is  always 
relevant,  that  is,  it  is  made  up  of  details  of  the  one  pic- 
ture, and  every  part  of  it  that  I  notice  serves  only  to 
strengthen  the  total  impression  and  to  bind  closer 
together  the  various  details.  So  here  again,  because  of 
its  use  of  symbolism,  literature — and  therefore,  descrip- 
tion— is  put  at  a  great  disadvantage  in  comparison  with 
the  formative  arts, — so  great,  in  fact,  that  it  cannot  hope 
to  compete  with  the  latter  in  the  production  of  exact  or 


LESSING 'S  LAOCOON 


287 


universal  images.  I  have  frequently  read  short  de- 
scriptions to  people  for  them  to  sketch  or  outline  on 
paper.  For  the  same  words  I  have  never  had  two 
drawings  that  looked  in  any  way  alike. 

But  in  this  competition  with  reality,  description  is  no 
worse  off  than  any  other  branch  of  literature.  Lessing 
was  of  the  opinion  that  language,  by  its  very  nature, 
was  better  fitted  to  express  action1  than  rest,  but  I 
cannot  agree  with  him.  If  descriptions  of  objects  are 
not  equal  to  paintings  in  intensity  and  universality  of 
impression,  neither  are  narratives  in  the  same  respects 
equal  to  the  drama  when  presented  on  the  stage,  nor 
are  descriptions  of  music  equal  to  the  actual  perform- 
ances. In  each  case  the  reason  for  the  weakness  lies 
deeper  than  the  fact  that  words  follow  each  other  in 
time  order.  It  is  found  in  the  element  of  symbolism  in 
.the  instrument  of  expression.2 

1 —  In  a  limited  sense  Lessing  may  be  right.  Since  language 
does  arouse  incongruous  backgrounds,  and  since  the  latter  have 
more  chance  to  get  in  each  other's  way  in  static  than  in  progres- 
sive description,  we  may  indeed  argue  that  language  is  better  fitted 
to  express  progressive  action  than  rest.  This,  however,  is  not  Less- 
ing 's  argument.    (See  p.  225.) 

2 —  However,  literature  has  its  compensations.  Just  because  it 
uses  symbols,  it  has  not  only  greater  range  but  also  greater  quick- 
ness and  ease,  and  just  as  algebra  can  do  higher  work  than  arith- 
metic, so  literature  can  go  beyond  formative  art  in  delicacy,  sug- 
gestiveness,  and  interpretation.  A  picture  or  a  photograph,  as  a 
mere  object  of  perception,  is  a  remarkably  abstract  and  unsug- 
gestive  thing.  We  have  to  regard  it  long  and  closely  in  order  to 
analyze  it  completely.  This  is  not  true  of  objects  presented  through 
description.  The  impressions  of  the  latter  may  not  have  unity  or 
coherence,  but  they  are  certainly  analyzed.  A  brief  description 
may  assemble  more  details  than  an  actual  observer  could  discover 
in  hours  of  study.  I  may  assert  even  more :  a  master  of  description 
may  point  out  things  that  the  ordinary  man  would  never  see  with 
his  own  unaided  eye. 

This  suggests  that  the  view  afforded  by  description  is  personal. 
If  the  author  is  a  man  of  weak  insight  this  is  a  disadvantage;  but 
a  description  written  by  a  great  thinker  may,  through  its  sug- 
gestive and  interpretative  power,  be  of  as  much  value  as  the  sight 


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Description,  because  it  uses  symbolism,  generally 
does  no  more  than  to  convey  the  essential  truth  of  the 
object  portrayed.  It  arouses  in  the  mind  of  the  reader 
not  the  sensuous  image  that  the  writer  saw,  but  an- 
other image  like  the  former  only  in  that  it  has  the  same 
essential  characteristics.1 

I  think  we  have  now  determined  the  principal  differ- 
ences between  description  and  painting.  The  advan- 
tage of  the  latter  is  found  in  its  power  of  denotation. 
A  few  lines  will  give  more  exact  sensuous  information 
than  a  page  of  description.  But  just  because  formative 
art  uses  direct  sensations  it  cannot  rely  on  imagina- 
tion to  so  great  a  degree  to  supply  deficiencies  and 
omissions,  A  few  bold  strokes  will  give  to  all  observ- 
ers the  same  outline,  but  they  are  not  likely  to  suggest 
for  anyone  a  finished  picture  or  much  more  of  pictur- 
esque detail  than  they  really  present.  The  reverse  is 
true  of  description.  The  power  of  the  latter  lies  in 
connotation.  Since  every  word  calls  up  associations,  a 
few  well-chosen  descriptive  epithets  and  phrases  may 
"suggest  a  picture  that  seems  as  complete  and  lifelike 
as  reality. 

.of  the  object  itself.  Having  the  object  before  us  or  having  known 
-it  in  the  past  directly  does  not  make  the  description  useless, — nay, 
'that  may  be  the  very  reason  why  it  is  interesting.  We  seldom  care 
.for  long  descriptions  of  pictures,  for  instance,  unless  we  can  see 
,the  originals  or  copies  of  them. 


•  1 — This,  however,  is  not  as  great  a  disadvantage  for  description 
as  one  might  suppose.  In  works  of  the  imagination  it  makes  very 
little  difference  whether  non-essentials  are  perceived  alike  or  not, 
and  even  in  books  dealing  with  real  places  and  real  men,  it  is 
generally  easy  to  supplement  descriptions  with  appropriate  draw- 
ings or  photographs. 


VIII 


Varieties  of  Description 


HE  importance   of  description  as   a  type  of 


discourse  is  underestimated,  I  believe,  by  many 


-JL_  rhetorics.  No  doubt  this  is  partly  the  result 
of  using  too  narrow  a  definition.  We  ought  to  in- 
clude under  the  term,  I  think,  more  than  the  formal 
or  set  description.  The  latter  covers  but  a  part  of  the 
whole  field.  For  instance,  much  description  is  of  the 
nature  of  a  running  commentary,  loose  and  informal  in 
structure.  This  ought  not  to  be  neglected.  The  purpose 
in  view  for  description  ought  also  to  be  broader  than 
merely  that  of  arousing  picturesque  images.  The  latter 
work  is  important,  but  not  all  that  the  type  ^las  to  do. 
For  instance,  as  an  example  of  what  it  seems  necessary 
to  call  unpicturesque  description,  take  the  following 
account  of  Milton : 

"The  English  poet,  who  by  common  consent  holds  a 
rank  second  only  to  that  of  Shakespere,  was  born  in  a 
house  on  Bread  Street,  London,  Dec.  9,  1608.  Milton's 
grandfather  was  a  Catholic.  His  father,  also  John  Mil- 
ton, was  a  Protestant,  and  had  been  disinherited  for  his 
faith.  By  profession  the  poet's  father  was  a  scrivener; 
that  is,  he  was  an  attorney  and  also  a  stationer.  He  was 
a  man  of  property  and  planned  with  great  care  and 
liberality  for  his  son's  education,"  etc. 

Such  material  as  this  can  hardly  be  called  exposition 
according  to  any  definition  at  present  found  in  rhetorics. 
It  is  not  explanatory  but  presentative,  and  may  therefore 
rightly  be  designated  as  description.  Nevertheless,  it 
has  nothing  about  it  that  is  picturesque.  If  then  we 
take  into  account  the  various  generally  neglected  por- 


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tions,  we  must  consider  that  we  have  in  description  a 
large  subject.  Nor  is  it  such  a  dependent  subject  as 
some  people  think.  To  be  sure,  it  is  frequently  mixed 
with  other  types,  and  often  it  has  subordinate  work  to 
do,  but  these  are  not  entirely  characteristic  conditions. 
In  poetry,  in  science,  in  books  of  travel,  and  even  in 
fiction,  description  is  very  often  employed  independently 
and  for  its  own  sake. 

It  is  indeed  a  widely  used,  important  form  of  dis- 
course, having  many  methods,  and  aims,  and,  conse- 
quently, appearing  in  numerous  types.  In  this  chapter 
we  propose  to  take  up  and  discuss  some  of  these  princi- 
pal varieties.  Classification  is  not  very  important  in 
itself,  but;  oftentimes  it  can  suggest  things  to  look  for  in 
the  analytical  study  of  a  subject,  and  in  advanced  work 
every  means  that  can  enable  us  to  get  clearer  ideas 
about  the  nature  and  the  relations  of  the  various  parts 
of  our  subject  ought  to  be  welcome.  We  shall  have  this 
end  in  view  in  the  following  treatment. 

However,  to  give  to  the  numerous  classes  of  descrip- 
tion an  orderly  presentation  is  a  task  which  is  extremely 
difficult.  The  problem  seems  to  lie  in  the  fact  that 
though  there  are  many  methods  of  division,  there  is  no 
proper  subordination  among  them,  and  the  more  im- 
portant ones  seem  lacking  in  clearly  defined  principles  of 
classification.  The  members  of  a  group  often  fail  to  be 
mutually  exclusive.  They  do  not  bear  toward  each  other 
the  relation  of  opposites,  but  of  parallels.  Frequently 
they  claim  the  right  to  exist  simply  because  they  espe- 
cially emphasize  certain  much-used  groups  of  material 
and  ideals.  The  difficulty  is  illustrated  in  the  first  classi- 
fication we  shall  mention. 

Probably  the  most  important  and  comprehensive  divi- 
sion that  can  be  made  for  our  subject  is  that  which 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


291 


groups  it  into  two  chief  types  around  the  centers  of  art 
and  science.  This  method  divides  description  according 
to  its  purpose,  the  artistic  branch  having  as  its  main 
object  to  arouse  esthetic  pleasure,  while  the  scientific 
aims  to  convey  accurate,  systematic  information.  This 
is  a  fundamental  distinction,  and  a  very  useful  one,  too, 
but  nevertheless  it  does  not  always  meet  the  require- 
ments of  classification.  The  reason  lies  in  the  fact  that 
though  art  and  science  have  different  ideals,  these  are 
after  all  merely  different,  and  they  are  not  necessarily 
opposed  to  each  other.  Their  relationship  is  indeed 
much  like  that  existing  between  two  political  parties,  one 
of  which,  we  will  say,  stands  for  a  protective  tariff, 
while  the  other  labors  for  prohibition.  Now  there  is 
nothing  that  is  necessarily  antagonistic  in  two  such  plat- 
forms •  indeed,  they  may  have  much  in  common,  and  it 
may  be  that  the  chief  difference  lies  in  the  emphasis  that 
is  given  to  this  or  that  principle.  So,  too,  the  difference 
between  art  and  science  is  largely  one  of  emphasis.  The 
artist  is  willing  to  sacrifice  matter-of-fact  truth  for 
effectiveness,  the  scientist  is  willing  to  sacrifice  effective- 
ness for  truth,  but  this  merely  shows  that  each  regards 
the  ideals  of  the  other  as  of  less  importance  than  his 
own.  The  two  may  use  in  part  the  same  methods  and 
they  may  borrow  methods  from  each  other.  This  paral- 
lelism produces  some  confusion  in  working  out  classifi- 
cation. 

We  can  probably  best  illustrate  this  by  taking  up  and 
discussing  some  of  the  characteristics  that  are  thought 
to  differentiate  the  two  types.  We  may  mention  first  of 
all,  two  sets  which  we  have  already  treated.  Artistic  de- 
scription is  said  to  be  usually  specific  and  concrete> 
while  scientific  description  is  general  and  abstract.  We 
have  here  in  this  statement  the  same  contrasting  dis- 


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tinctions  that  we  discussed  in  Chapter  V  in  relation 
to  exposition  and  description,  and  we  showed  there  that 
these  qualities  are  not  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  differ- 
entiate those  two  types.  In  the  present  case,  as  in  the 
former  one,  we  have  the  same  problems  involved  and  we 
arrive  at  the  same  results,  and  it  will  not  be  necessary 
for  us  to  go  over  the  ground  again.  Sufficient  it  is  to 
state  that  we  have  in  these  two  sets  of  qualities  usual 
but  not  necessary  differentiae  between  art  and  science. 

Again,  artistic  description  is  said  to  be  pre-eminently 
imaginative  and  suggestive,  while  scientific  description 
is  informational  and  literal.  This  statement  expresses, 
without  doubt,  an  essential  truth,  nevertheless  it  can 
not  be  used  as  a  safe  criterion  for  differentiation. 
Modern  realism  has  frequently  all  the  earmarks  of  sci- 
ence. No  work  could  be  more  truthful,  more  matter- 
of-fact,  and  more  exact,  than  some  art.  Even  such  a 
story  as  Robinson  Crusoe  seems  more  informational 
than  imaginative.  The  author  apparently  does  not 
wish  to  suggest  more  than  the  plain  facts  he  states. 
Yet  it  is  precisely  these  characteristics  in  the  story  that 
afford  to  the  reader  one  of  tlie  chief  sources  of  pleasure. 
On  the  other  hand,  scientific  writings  are  often  very  far 
from  being  unimaginative,  a  fact  which  one  must 
acknowledge  as  soon  as  he  thinks  of  the  great  scientific 
theories.  How,  for  instance,  can  one  entirely  compre- 
hend the  nebular  hypothesis  or  the  theory  of  natural 
selection  if  he  does  not  possess  a  vivid  imagination? 
But  even  for  less  important  scientific  conceptions,  for 
scientific  descriptions  and  the  like,  imagination  is  often 
necessary,  and  though  in  all  these  cases  science  uses 
it  in  the  interest  of  truth,  the  effect  may  not  seem  any 
more  real  than  the  fiction  of  the  story-book. 

There  are  still  other  ways  of  differentiating  art  and 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


293 


science,  but  in  each  case  we  have  no  surer  results.  Thus, 
feeling  and  thought  are  supposed  to  characterize  the 
two -respective  subjects,  but  they,  like  the  two  classes 
they  represent,  are  by  nature  parallel  rather  than 
opposed  to  each  other,  and  they  are  generally,  perhaps 
necessarily,  found  together  in  good  literature.  Again, 
the  ascribing  of  the  qualities  of  sensuousness  and  pic- 
turesqueness  to  all  art,  and  the  lack  of  these  qualities 
to  science,  is  an  assertion  much  too  sweeping  to  be 
true, — as  can  be  seen  from  numerous  examples  that 
show  the  contrary.  But  in  this  last  characterization  we 
do  have  real  opposition  between  the  members  of  the 
group,  and  though  picturesque  and  unpicturesque  ma- 
terial is  very  often  found  mixed  together  in  descrip- 
tion, it  is  important  to  note,  as  we  have  already  done, 
.that  while  some  descriptive  material  is  by  nature  thor- 
oughly picturesque,  other  material,  equally  specific  and 
definite,  seems  to  be  almost  entirely  lacking  in  this 
sensuous  quality.  As  an  example  of  the  unpicturesque 
type,  we  have  quoted  a  few  lines  from  the  life  of  Mil- 
ton. "We  might  also  have  referred  to  the  description  of 
the  scepter  of  Agamemnon  as  another  example. 

It  ought  to  be  clear  now  from  what  we  have  said  that 
the  classification  of  description  into  the  types  scien- 
tific and  artistic  is  not  entirely  satisfactory  as  a  method 
of  division.  The  members  of  the  group  are  not  mu- 
tually exclusive.  Nevertheless  this  method  is  conven- 
ient and  generally  practicable,  and  its  use  in  classifying 
all  kinds  of  description  will  throw  much  light  upon  sev- 
eral interesting  phases  of  the  subject. 

But  now  we  may  profitably  pass  on  to  other  methods 
of  classifying  description.  The  next  that  we  shall  men- 
tion divides  descriptive  material  according  to  the  work 
it  accomplishes.      "We  have  already  shown .  that  this 


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work  is  largely  preservative ;  that  is,  it  gives  us  infor- 
mation of  one  kind  or  another  and  for  one  purpose  or 
another,  and  this  information  corresponds  to  what  is 
actually  stated.  But  we  know  description  sometimes 
does  more  than  to  present;  it  often  suggests.  With  a 
few  details  it  makes  us  imagine  a  whole  scene.  This 
second  kind  of  work  is  limited  almost  entirely  to  the 
artistic  field,  though  here  it  has  a  very  wide  use  indeed. 
But  description  is  not  even  confined  to  presentation  and 
suggestion.  It  is  sometimes  interpretative.  The  very 
fact  that  the  subject-matter  of  description  is  based  so 
largely  on  personal  analysis  makes  it  necessary  that 
much  of  the  work  will  be  interpretative.  Furthermore, 
since  perception  is  largely  a  matter  of  apperception,  it 
is  clear  that  it  is  often  necessary  to  understand  what  a 
thing  means  in  order  to  see  what  it  is.  It  is  fre- 
quently helpful  to  define  description  in  terms  of  these 
three  divisions,  but  unfortunately  again  for  purposes 
of  classification  the  three  are  often  not  separated  dis- 
tinctly from  each  other. 

Another  method  of  classifying  description — one  that 
we  have  already  sufficiently  discussed  in  our  treatment 
of  the  Laocoon — has  as  its  basis  of  differentiation  the 
presence  or  lack  of  narrative  movement  in  specimens  of 
the  type.  Those  that  present  their  object  in  terms  of 
the  coexistent  parts  are  called  enumerative  descriptions, 
while  those  that  have  a  narrative  movement  to  them — 
that  represent  the  object  as  changing  from  stage  to  stage 
— are  named  progressive  descriptions.  The  meaning  of 
these  terms  ought  to  be  clear  to  everyone. 

There  is  another  classification  somewhat  similar  to 
this,  that  divides  description  into  the  types  static  and 
dynamic.  Because  this  classification  and  the  one  pre- 
ceding have  much  in  common  they  are  liable  to  be  con- 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


295 


fused  with  each  other,  and  it  would  appear  that  Lessing 
fell  into  this  error  in  his  treatment.  The  two  should  be 
kept  apart.  The  word  " static"  includes  all  that  part  of 
the  descriptive  field  that  does  not  make  use  of  action  in 
any  way.  The  word  "dynamic"  includes  the  part  that 
does  use  action.  Enumerative  descriptions  are  frequent- 
ly though  not  necessarily  static,  but  dynamic  descrip- 
tions are  very  often  not  progressive.  There  are  many 
kinds  of  action  that  are  not  essentially  narrative.  The 
dynamic  description  is  the  kind  that  makes  use  of  all 
those  appeals  to  the  motor  type  of  imagination  which 
we  discussed  in  a  preceding  chapter.  An  excellent  ex- 
ample of  dynamic  description,  as  well  as  of  suggestive 
description,  is  Wordsworth's  Green  Linnet,  of  which  the 
following  lines  seem  especially  good  as  an  illustration 
of  action  that  is  not  narrative : 

' '  Amid  yon  tuft  of  hazel  trees 
That  twinkle  to  the  gusty  breeze, 
Behold  him  perch 'd  in  ecstacies, 

Yet  seeming  still  to  hover; 
There  where  the  flutter  of  his  wings 
Upon  his  back  and  body  flings 
Shadows  and  sunny  glimmerings, 

That  cover  him  all  over. " 

There  are  many  other  ways  of  classifying  descrip- 
tion, some  based  on  the  nature  of  the  material  pre- 
sented, others  on  the  method  used,  the  purpose  in  view, 
the  effects  produced,  etc.  Some  of  these  we  can  pass 
without  comment.  Thus  description  at  times  deals 
with  single  objects — either  persons  or  things— and  at 
other  times  with  whole  scenes.  This  may  give  the  basis 
for  a  classification.  Then,  too,  descriptions  differ  in 
length  and  style.  Sometimes  they  are  limited  to  a 
word — an  epithet,  sometimes  they  take  the  form  of  a 
catalogue,  but  most  often  they  are  richer  in  expression 


296 


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and  make  use  of  a  full  sentence  structure.  Here  again 
we  have  distinctions  that  have  been  used  for  purposes 
of  classification. 

Sometimes  also  a  description  may  be  organic,  stand- 
ing out  from  the  rest  of  the  discourse  as  a  unit  com- 
plete in  itself.  It  deals  systematically  with  a  particu- 
lar object  or  scene  and  it  presents  this  from  a  desig- 
nated point  of  view  and  according  to  a  definite  plan. 
This  type  is  variously  known  as  the  systematic,  or 
formal,  or  set  description.  It  needs  no  illustration.  It 
is  the  kind  first  thought  of  when  we  hear  the  word 
description  used,  because  it  is  the  kind  generally  em- 
phasized by  text-books  on  the  subject.  However,  there 
is  a  great  deal  of  descriptive  material  that  can  not  be 
placed  in  this  class.  Sometimes  this  is  because  it  is 
interwoven  with  other  forms  of  discourse,  or  it  may  be 
because  the  description  lacks  system  and  point  of  view. 
Neither  of  these  characteristics  is  absolutely  essential 
to  good  description. 

Another  common  method  of  classifying  description  is 
to  divide  it  into  two  classes,  the  objective  and  the  sub- 
jective, according  to  the  amount  of  the  author's  per- 
sonality that  enters  into  his  work.  This  is  a  classifica- 
tion in  which  the  members  differ  in  degree  rather  than 
in  kind,  for  all  literature  is  shaped  and  colored  to  some 
extent  by  the  author's  personality.  The  first  member, 
the  objective  description,  theoretically  owes  nothing  to 
the  individuality  of  its  writer.  It  assumes  that  there 
is  no  personal  equation,  that  the  facts  it  states  appear 
the  same  to  everyone.  The  contrasted  division,  the 
subjective  description,  owes  a  great  deal  to  its  writer. 
It  is  completely  permeated  by  its  author's  temperament 
and  mood.  It  takes  many  forms.  Often  it  is  impres- 
sionistic, but  in  all  cases  it  has  a  strong  personal  col- 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


297 


oring.  The  difference  between  the  two  members  of  this 
division  is  sufficiently  marked  to  make  this  generally  a 
useful  method  of  classification. 

There  are  still  other  classes  of  description.  In  fact, 
we  might  continue  this  process  of  division  indefinitely 
and  then  add  numerous  subdivisions,  but  such  a  course 
is  unnecessary.  As  we  stated  earlier  in  the  chapter, 
classification  is  not  very  important  in  itself.  We  do 
not  wish  then  to  lay  too  much  stress  upon  it.  It  should 
be  used  as  a  tool  and  not  as  an  end.  As  a  tool  it  may 
be  helpful  in  suggesting  possibilities  and  limitations 
for  the  subject,  also  methods  of  work.  But,  as  an  end, 
its  influence  is  pernicious,  setting  up  false  ideals  to 
work  for.  "We  have  mentioned  enough  classifications 
to  show  at  least  the  general  outline  of  the  field. 


IX 


Ideals  and  Methods  of  Description 

IN  this,  our  last  chapter,  we  intend  to  discuss  some 
of  the  practical  considerations  that  arise  in  the 
treatment  of  description.  As  usual,  we  shall  en- 
deavor to  view  the  subject  from  a  somewhat  philo- 
sophic standpoint.  We  shall  not  be  so  much  interested 
in  the  general  expediency  of  a  particular  method  of 
work  as  in  the  reasons  that  cause  the  method  to  be  ex- 
pedient. In  this  way  we  hope  to  unite  the  practical 
with  the  ideal. 

Now  to  be  ideal,  a  literary  product  must  be  effective, 
and  effective  according  to  the  requirements  of  its  pur- 
pose. This  is  a  principle  which  holds  as  well  for  de- 
scription as  for  other  forms  of  discourse;  but  when 
stated  in  this  vague  and  general  way,  the  formula  can- 
not give  us  much  guidance  either  in  the  work  of  criticism 
or  of  production.  It  is  necessary  to  evaluate  the  terms 
very  carefully  with  reference  to  the  specific  branch  in 
which  we  wish  to  apply  it,  if  we  are  to  succeed  in  mak- 
ing it  useful.  But  if  properly  evaluated  this  generaliza- 
tion ought  to  give  us  knowledge  of  what  really  con- 
stitutes the  ideal  for  any  of  the  various  forms  of  litera- 
ture.   Let  us  apply  it  to  description. 

It  is  always  to  be  remembered  that  our  general  state- 
ment carried  with  it  one  important  qualification.  It 
said  that  the  literary  product  should  be  effective  accord- 
ing to  its  purpose.  Hence  all  literature  is  not  required 
to  be  effective  in  the  same  manner.  It  is  not  even  neces- 
sary that  there  shall  be  but  one  ideal  of  effectiveness 
for  all  kinds  of  description.    Every  work,  whatever  its 


298 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


299 


nature,  shall  be  judged  with  reference  to  what  it  seeks 
to  do.  -  Consequently  if  description  has  many  separate 
aims  and  purposes,  we  are  to  expect  that  it  will  have 
just  that  many  kinds  of  ideals. 

In  our  classification  of  description  we  showed  that 
the  type  is  used  for  at  least  two  very  important  pur- 
poses,— the  conveying  of  information  and  the  afford- 
ing of  pleasure, — and  we  found  that  these  purposes  are 
important  enough  to  stand  as  distinguishing  traits  for 
two  great  classes  of  description, — the  scientific  and  the 
artistic.  What  are  the  proper  ideals  for  each  of  these 
classes? 

-  For  scientific  description,  which  seeks  to  convey 
information,  the  most  important  requisite  is  clearness 
or  intelligibility.  Until  the  material  presented  is 
clearly  understood  by  the  reader  it  is  not  information 
for  him.  To  accomplish  this  end  it  is  not  necessary 
that  the  scientific  writer  shall  suggest  a  picture.  What 
is  necessary  is  that  the  material  shall  be  put  in  such  a 
way  that  the  reader  can  grasp  most  easily  and  clearly 
not  only  the  details  themselves  but  also  the  relations 
existing  between  details.  Generally  the  scientific 
writer  finds  it  necessary  to  present  more  material  than 
the  artistic  writer,  and  he  is  therefore  generally  obliged 
to  be  more  systematic  in  his  treatment.  It  will  seldom 
do  for  him  to  arrange  his  ideas  strictly  in  the  order  in 
which  they  naturally  come  to  him,  because  this  order  is 
usually  a  haphazard  one,  suggested  by  the  chance  in- 
terests of  the  moment.  He  should  group  his  details 
according  to  some  definite  plan.  If  the  special  branch 
in  which  he  is  working  has  some  accepted  order  of 
statement,  that  is  probably  the  best  order  for  him  to 
follow,  because  it  will  be  most  familiar  to  the  reader. 
In  other  cases  it  is  usually  best  to  proceed  from  general 


300 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


to  particular — that  being  the  natural  order  of  percep- 
tion— beginning  with  an  outline  of  the  whole  object  or 
scene  and  then  filling  this  in,  later,  part  by  part. 

But  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  of  course,  that  al! 
scientific  descriptions  are  not  to  be  constructed  after 
the  same  model.  The  type  may  have  many  subordi- 
nate purposes  to  influence  its  form  of  presentation,  with 
the  result  that  the  latter  is  subject  to  nearly  as  great 
extremes  as  it  is  in  the  case  of  the  artistic  description. 
What  the  form  shall  be  in  any  particular  description 
depends  upon  the  subject-matter  treated  and  the  au- 
dience addressed.  Sometimes  it  is  well  to  let  the  sci- 
entific description  approach  the  artistic  type  in  literary 
finish,  but  not  unfrequently  this  would  not  do  at  all. 
For  some  purposes  the  scientific  description  reaches  its 
most  ideal  form  in  the  catalogue.  In  this  we  can  get 
knowledge  presented  within  smallest  compass,  and  such 
may  be  exactly  what  the  reader  most  desires. 

For  artistic  description,  which  seeks  to  afford  pleas- 
ure, there  is  a  greater  range  of  possibilities  than  there 
is  for  specimens  of  the  scientific  type.  But  for  all 
these  various  methods  and  forms,  which  may  be  em- 
ployed, it  is  required  that  the  resulting  product  shall 
be  interesting.  If  this  effect  is  secured,  it  matters  little 
to  the  artist  directly,  whether  his  production  does  or 
does  not  convey  information,  or  whether  what  he  says 
is  true  or  false.  These  latter  considerations  may  be 
important  in  determining  whether  his  work  shows  good 
or  bad  art,  but  they  are  of  little  use  in  deciding  whether 
or  not  it  is  artistic.  As  long  as  the  writer  succeeds  by 
his  manner  of  presentation  in  holding  fast  the  atten- 
tion of  his  readers,  so  long  may  he  be  said  to  use  artis- 
tic methods;  and  when  he  fails  to  do  this,  his  work — 
no  matter  how  noble  or  true  it  may  be — ceases  to  be 
artistic. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


301 


The  writer  who  wishes  to  make  his  work  interesting- 
must  be  very  careful  not  to  tire  out  his  reader.  Interest 
and  tedium  are  incompatible.  Hence  any  type  of  de- 
scription that  is  likely  to  be  exhausting  must  be  used 
with  caution.  Such  a  type  is  found  in  the  long  enumera- 
tive  description,  which  is  not  in  accordance  with  the 
usual  methods  of  observation.  Ordinarily  the  attention 
is  not  concentrated  on  one  object  for  any  extended  length 
of  time.  We  interpiece  our  looking  with  bits  of  con- 
versation and  reflection,  or  we  let  the  attention  shift 
frequently  from  one  object  to  another.  We  seldom  try 
to  see  all  that  the  view  might  afford.  The  mind,  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  selects  those  things  that  appeal 
to  its  interests,  neglecting  all  the  rest.  This  helps  to 
relieve  the  mind  of  any  tedium. 

It  is  a  fact  well  known  to  psychologists  that  when  the 
mind  does  try  to  attend  continuously  to  one  object  for 
a  considerable  length  of  time,  it  is  subjected  to  a  great 
strain,  and  undergoes  periodic  fluctuations  of  attention. 
That  is,  the  field  of  vision  seems  to  fade  away  at  inter- 
vals, leaving  the  mind  a  blank.  Now  I  believe  it  is  possible 
that  we  may  have  in  a  long  description  the  same  condi- 
tions for  fluctuations  of  attention  that  we  have  in  direct 
observation.  That  may  explain  why  it  is  that  we  cannot 
remember  all  the  details  in  a  long  description.  It  is 
because  some  of  the  details  are  read  while  the  mind  is 
passing  through  its  lapse  and  hence  they  slip  the  atten- 
tion completely.  Whether  this  is  the  true  explanation 
or  not,  at  least  it  is  a  thesis  that  deserves  careful  investi- 
gation. 

The  long  enumerative  description  is  also  likely  to 
prove  fatiguing  because  after  a  certain  limit  the  reader 
experiences  increased  difficulty  in  harmonizing  each  new 
detail  with  those  already  in  the  mind.    We  learned  in 


302    -  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 

Chapter  VII  that  when  mental  images  are  aroused  they 
are  likely  to  bring  up  with  themselves  associated  back- 
grounds more  or  less  incongruous.  If  but  few  details 
are  mentioned,  these  backgrounds  do  no  harm,  aside 
from  their  inaccuracy.  On  the  contrary,  they  may  serve 
a  very  useful  purpose  in  giving  fullness  and  complete- 
ness to  the  mental  picture.  But  it  ought  to  be  clear  that 
the  more  details  are  mentioned  the  less  need  there  is  of 
making  use  of  these  associated  backgrounds  and  the 
more  likelihood  there  is  of  these  backgrounds  becoming 
sources  of  confusion.  After  a  certain  limit  has  been 
passed  the  new  details  find  their  places  already  taken 
by  an  incongruous  imagery,  previously  and  gratuitously 
suggested,  and  the  reader  is  compelled  either  to  neglect 
the  new  details  or  else  to  change  more  or  less  his  whole 
conception  in  order  to  insert  them.  The  latter  causes 
strain  with  often  unsatisfactory  results. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  long  enumerative  description  is 
a  dangerous  type  for  the  artist  to  employ.  In  gaining 
perceptive  knowledge  we  usually  obtain  our  ideas,  a 
few  at  a  time.  Just  a  few  ideas,  if  these  are  suggestive, 
may  arouse  for  the  reader  a  clear  and  complete  picture, 
which  may  be  quite  accurate  enough  for  the  purpose 
intended.  More  details  might  unnecessarily  waste  the 
reader's  energy,  thereby  weakening  the  total  effect  in- 
stead of  strengthening  it.  The  long  description  may 
easily  defeat  its  very  object  by  presenting  too  much 
material.  The  general  principle  of  economy  is  especially 
applicable  to  description, — that  one  should  use  the  few- 
est means  for  producing  the  desired  result. 

Lessing  was  right  then  in  preferring  the  progressive 
description  to  the  enumerative,  though  he  did  not  use 
the  right  line  of  argument  to  justify  his  opinion.  The 
progressive  type  is  the  better  one  because  it  is  usually 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


303 


the  more  interesting.  It  affords  an  easy,  natural  syn- 
thesis. Generally  it  has  more  variety.  We  like  to  see 
thing's  that  are  changing— progressing  from  one  state 
to  another.  How  frequently  we  notice  boys  standing 
a  long  while  watching  a  carpenter  construct  a  build- 
ing. They  would  not  pause  a  moment  to  look  at  the 
work  after  it  is  done.  A  description  that  tells  how  an 
object  is  constructed  is  much  more  likely,  then,  to  hold 
the  attention  than  one  which  presents  the  object 
already  completed. 

Psychologists  have  long  known  that  things  in  motion 
attract  the  attention  most  readily,  and  also  that  they 
produce  the  most  vivid  effects  upon  us.  "We  may  hear 
a  bird  in  a  tree,  but  if  it  makes  no  movement  it  is  often 
extremely  difficult  to  locate  it;  but  let  it  move,  and  we 
shall  probably  see  it  at  once.  The  same  tendency  is 
present  in  description.  The  suggestion  of  objects  in 
motion  seems  to  make  the  imaginative  powers  more 
fluid;  it  helps  the  objects  to  slide  into  focus,  as  it  were. 
Then,  too,  if  the  object  described  is  in  motion,  irrele- 
vant details  do  not  bother  us  as  much  as  otherwise.  If 
we  see  things  in  the  wroDg  way,  the  next  shift  of  the 
picture  can  set  our  images  right.  The  object  moves  on 
without  our  noticing  the  incongruities.  So  for  all  these 
reasons  the  progressive  description  is  a  good  type  to 
use. 

But  it  is  not  by  any  means  the  only  good  type  to  use. 
Even  the  static  enumerative  description  may  be  very 
interesting  if  it  have  sufficient  variety.  To  obtain  this 
it  is  well  to  appeal  to  various  senses.  Let  the  descrip- 
tion have  the  same  wealth  of  sensuousness  that  the  real 
object  possesses.  Put  into  it  the  variety  of  life.  This 
diversity  will  not  confuse,  because  the  details  will  be 
parallel  instead  of  overlapping.    True,  it  is  easily  pos- 


304 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


sible  to  go  too  far.  We  may  over-emphasize  the  sen- 
suousness  of  life.  As  we  have  stated  once  before,  most 
of  the  things  in  this  world  are  to  some  degree  abstrac- 
tions to  ns.  We  go  through  life  only  partly  realizing 
the  world  which  we  are  in.  This  is  true  for  all,  but 
the  artist,  because  of  his  very  nature,  is  more  sensitive 
than  the  average  person  and  has  a  richer  experience. 
This  is  as  it  should  be  unless  his  sensitiveness  goes  so 
far  as  to  be  unhealthy;  then  of  course  his  art  must 
suffer,  but  it  is  not  necessarily  a  fault  in  descriptions 
to  have  a  richer  sensuousness  than  real  life  can  afford 
to  most  people.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  art  has 
need  of  intensifying  impressions  in  order  to  be  success- 
ful. Not  a  little  of  the  powerfulness  of  the  effect  is- 
lost  in  the  transmission.  Hence  in  literary  art  the 
reader  is  not  likely  to  sense  all  that  is  presented  to  him, 
but  that  does  not  necessarily  interfere  with  his  pleasure 
in  reading  a  description.  A  person  likes  art  oftentimes 
because  it  presents  more  than  he  otherwise  could  per- 
ceive,— that  is  one  way  it  enriches  his  experience. 

However,  it  should  be  repeated,  it  is  easily  possible 
to  go  too  far.  Many  descriptions  are  both  too  long  and 
too  definite.  We  have  learned  in  a  preceding  chapter 
that  one  of  the  most  valuable  powers  of  literary  art  is 
to  be  found  in  its  suggestiveness.  In  that  it  is  greatly 
superior  to  formative  art.  This  superior  capability 
should  be  made  use  of  wherever  possible.  Many 
things  may  be  suggested  much  more  artistically  than 
they  may  be  told.  This  is  especially  true  if  we  wish  to 
make  the  reader  feel  that  the  object  described  is  par- 
ticularly ideal  or  beautiful..  In  this  connection  Lessing 
offers  us  some  good  advice.  He  says  the  poet  should 
desist  entirely  from  the  description  of  physical  beauty 
as  such.    "Here  again  Homer  is  the  model  of  all 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


305 


models.  He  says,  Nireus  was  fair ;  Achilles  was  fairer ; 
Helen  was  of  a  godlike  beauty.  But  he  is  nowhere  be- 
trayed into  a  more  detailed  description  of  these  beau- 
ties. Yet  the  whole  poem  is  based  upon  the  loveliness 
of  Helen.  How  a  modern  poet  would  have  revelled  in 
descriptions  of  it ! "  Nevertheless,  Lessing  tells  us,  we 
can  suggest  physical  beauty. 

"What  Homer  could  not  describe  in  its  details,  he 
shows  us  by  its  effect.  Paint  us,  ye  poets,  the  delight, 
the  attraction,  the  love,  the  enchantment  of  beauty, 
and  you  have  painted  Beauty  herself.  .  .  .  Yet  an- 
other way  in  which  poetry  surpasses  art  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  physical  beauty,  is  by  turning  beauty  into 
charm.  Charm  is  beauty  in  motion,  and  therefore  less 
adapted  to  the  painter  than  the  poet. ' n  It  is  a  transi- 
tory beauty  which  we  would  fain  see  repeated. 

I  think  Lessing 's  advice  excellent,  though  again  I 
think  he  bases  it  on  erroneous  arguments.  Homer  cer- 
tainly does  not  make  use  of  long  descriptions  of  physi- 
cal beauty.  The  longest  that  I  have  been  able  to  find 
are  such  as  the  following: 

.  .  and  when  she  marked  the  fair  neck  and 
lovely  breast  and  sparkling  eyes  of  the  goddess,  she 
marvelled  straightway.    .    .  ."2 

"Near  him  Athene  drew,  in  form  of  a  young  shep- 
herd, yet  delicate  as  are  the  sons  of  kings.  Doubled 
about  her  shoulders  she  wore  a  fine-wrought  mantle ; 
under  her  shining  feet  her  sandals,  and  in  her  hand  a 
spear."3 

In  these  descriptions  it  will  be  noticed  that  the 
details  mentioned  are  not  very  definitive  or  individual- 
izing.   Homer  tells  us  the  goddess  has  sparkling  eyes, 

1—  Laocoon,  XX,  XXI. 

2 —  Iliad,  III,  p.  61.    Lang,  Leaf,  and  Myers'  translation. 

3 —  Odyssey,  XIII,  p.  205.    Palmer's  translation. 


306 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


but  he  does  not  define  their  color.  He  says  that  Athene 
has  a  fine- wrought  mantle,  but  he  is  silent  as  to  its 
material,  make,  etc.  That  is,  what  Homer  says  is  sug- 
gestive but  it  does  not  define  the  image.  He  gives  us 
the  opportunity  to  fill  in  details  as  we  wish.  In  doing 
this  I  think  he  observes  important  psychological  prin- 
ciples. There  is  no  universal  standard  of  beauty. 
People  differ  from  each  other  in  their  preference  for 
particular  types.  Then  too  their  conceptions  of  the 
beautiful  are  very  closely  associated  with  personal  in- 
terest. People  are  likely  to  think  of  the  beautiful  in 
terms  of  living  examples.  Not  infrequently  the  heroes 
and  heroines  we  have  known  in  life  go  a  long  way  in 
helping  to  embody  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  litera- 
ture. If  then  we  wish  to  be  successful  in  making  the 
reader  feel  that  the  person  described  is  particularly 
beautiful,  it  may  be  well  to  confine  our  efforts  to  setting 
the  imagination  at  work,  letting  the  reader  choose  the 
•details  to  suit  himself.  For  me  the  pleasure  of  reading 
a  novel  is  sometimes  lessened  if  not  spoiled  by  the  intro- 
duction of  pictures  that  do  not  at  all  set  forth  the 
characters  and  scenes  in  a  way  I  should  like  to  imagine 
them. 

There  is  another  reason  for  not  describing  beauty  at 
great  length.  The  beautiful  is  always  harmonious. 
Now  the  details  in  a  description  tend  to  bring  up  with 
themselves  irrelevant  backgrounds.  These  backgrounds 
accordingly  cannot  fit  in  well  together,  and  hence  there 
is  a  conflict  of  images.  Thus  the  harmony  is  destroyed 
and  an  impression  of  beauty  rendered  impossible.  For 
either  of  these  reasons  long  descriptions  of  the  beauti- 
ful are  inadvisable. 

But  we  have  not  yet  treated  sufficiently  the  various 
means  by  which  the  enumerative  description  can  secure 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


307 


for  itself  variety  and  effectiveness.  To  make  an  appeal 
to  all  the  senses  affected,  we  have  found  to  be  a  useful 
expedient,  but  this  is  not  the  only  resource  that  the 
enumerative  description  has  at  its  disposal  in  maintain- 
ing interest.  It  too  can  make  use  of  motion.  The  pro- 
gressive type  does  not  by  any  means  utilize  all  the  kinds 
of  motion  that  may  be  used  to  advantage  in  description. 
Its  use  of  motion  is  limited  to  one  sort,  but  motion  of 
any  kind  is  likely  to  add  vividness  to  a  portrayal,  and 
largely  for  the  reasons  we  have  already  advanced  in 
treating  the  progressive  type.  Motion  affords  variety. 
It  adds  life  and  spirit.  It  tends  to  make  the  imagina- 
tion more  fluid.  Indeed  it  may  be  used  to  advantage 
even  when  no  motion  actually  takes  place  in  the  object 
or  scene  described.  Thus  to  say  that  ' '  the  sunlight  falls, ' ' 
'.'the  mountains  rise,"  l'the  streets  run  east  and  west," 
or  to  use  any  other  expressions  of  a  like  nature,  helps 
us  to  shift  our  images  into  place.  We  are  therefore  by 
this  means  enabled  to  see  the  object  in  the  imagination 
much  more  easily  and  vividly.1 

Not  only  the  enumerative,  but  all  kinds  of  artistic 
description  are  sometimes  the  better  for  not  being  too 
formal.  Formality  tends  to  put  a  chill  upon  the  imagi- 
native and  emotional  powers.  The  traveler  who  writes 
of  the  scenes  he  has  visited  may  do  well  to  be  systematic 
in  his  descriptions.  He  is  supposed  to  see  and  remember 
all  that  comes  before  him.  In  a  way  he  is  a  scientist, 
and  his  descriptions  have  the  scientific  trait  of  being 
informational.  The  objects  and  scenes  he  describes  are 
so  new  to  the  reader's  experience  as  to  be  interesting 
in  themselves.    But  the  traveler  does  not  look  at  things 


1 — Cf.  Josiah  Koyce:  Some  recent  Studies  in  Ideals  of  Motion. 
Science,  1883,  part  quoted  in  A.  S.  Hill's  Principles  of.Ehetoric, 
1895,  pp.  273-4. 


308 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


from  the  standpoint  of  ordinary  experience.  In  every- 
day life  people  are  not  usually  scientific  in  the  way 
they  absorb  information.  They  see  the  things  that  in- 
terest them  and  in  an  order  largely  controlled  by  their 
chance  interests.  They  are  unconscious  that  they  have 
any  point  of  view.  They  do  not  even  realize  that  they 
are  acquiring  information.  They  follow  natural  in- 
stincts and  see  and  learn  what  they  cannot  help  but  see 
and  learn. 

Now  these  are  characteristics  that  are  found  in  nu- 
merous modern  artistic  descriptions.  The  reader  is. 
entirely  unconscious  of  formality.  The  details  read 
appear  to  stand  in  such  a  haphazard  order  and  they 
are  combined  with  other  forms  of  discourse  so  artlessly 
that  they  do  not  seem  to  form  part  of  the  description 
at  all.  They  are  merely  easy,  delightful  reading. 
Everything  said  is  entirely  natural  and  necessary  to 
the  purpose.  This  artlessness,  if  skillfully  managed,  is 
often  a  good  trait  in  description. 

It  is  not  even  necessary  that  the  reader  shall  be 
made  conscious  of  a  point  of  view.  In  fact,  we  may  go 
a  step  farther  and  say  that  it  is  not  always  necessary 
for  a  description  to  have  a  real  point  of  view.  This  is 
a  phase  of  the  subject  that  needs  further  investigation, 
but  a  few  things  are  clear.  In  Chapter  VI  we  had 
something  to  say  about  the  nature  of  mental  imagery, 
and  we  found  there  that  the  imaginative  mind  has 
strange,  fairy-like  powers  of  seeing  through  and  around 
things,  and  we  may  add,  of  being  anywhere — even  the 
most  inaccessible  places.  To  be  personal,  when  I  my- 
self imagine  things,  I  seem  to  be  present,  but  to  form  an 
immaterial  and  invisible  part.  I  am  sometimes  not 
conscious  of  having  any  bodily  location.  I  am  as  if  in 
midair.    If  1  have  a  point  of  view,  I  take  it  uncon- 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


309 


sciously,  and  if  I  reason  out  where  it  must  be,  I  some- 
times find  it  in  very  odd  places,  such  as  up  near  the 
ceiling  or  right  in  the  wall  of  the  room.  This  strange 
point  of  view,  if  indeed  such  it  may  be  called,  I  change 
instantly  .and  unconsciously  whenever  the  occasion  de- 
mands. However  unnatural  this  may  sound,  these  are 
not  powers  peculiar  to  myself.  I  have  found  other  peo- 
ple having  similar  imaginative  processes.  But  this  sub- 
ject of  the  point  of  view  is  one  that  needs  further  study. 
At  present  not  much  can  be  stated  about  it  definitely. 
Nevertheless  it  will  be  found  upon  investigation  that 
the  peculiarities  just  mentioned  have  already  been 
made  use  of  in  works  of  literature,  though  of  course  in 
an  entirely  unconscious  manner.1 

Another  very  important  factor  in  artistic  description 
is  the  personal  element.  This  is  especially  effective  in 
arousing  and  maintaining  the  reader's  interest.  Every 
one  of  us  is  a  human  being,  and  that  may  be  sufficient 
reason  to  explain  the  depth  of  our  interest  in  all  that 
concerns  other  human  beings.  But  more  than  this,  when 
we  are  in  the  artistic  mood  we  are  especially  sympathetic 
and  hence  especially  susceptible  to  the  influence  of  this 
human  element  or  quality.  This  personal  or  subjective 
element  enters  description  in  many  different  forms,  and 
in  many  of  these  it  plays  an  important  part.  There  are 
few  long  descriptions  that  do  not  make  at  least  some 
use  of  it,  and  almost  always  to  their  advantage.  Some- 
times it  is  no  more  than  to  introduce  men  and  women 
as  a  part  of  the  subject-matter ;  but  more  often  the 
author  introduces  his  own  personal  experiences  and  im- 
pressions, or  those  of  some  imaginary  character,  and 
makes  a  more  or  less  direct  appeal  to  the  reader's  sym- 


1 — Cf.,  for  instance,  the  type  of  novel  in  which  the  author  is 
omnipresent. 


310 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


pathy.  Whatever  the  form  this  personal  element  may 
take,  it  can  be  used  very  effectively  in  arousing  and 
maintaining  interest. 

We  have  stated  earlier  in  the  chapter  that  it  is  not 
a  necessary  part  of  the  work  of  the  scientific  descrip- 
tion to  suggest  pictures.  Indeed,  sometimes  pictur- 
esqueness  may  be  detrimental  to  science,  inasmuch  as 
the  imagery  suggested  is  not  likely  to  represent  the 
exact  truth.  In  this  respect  science  and  art  are  very 
different.  Though  the  latter  does  not  have  to  be  pic- 
turesque, it  generally  finds  it  most  to  its  advantage  to 
be  so.  The  question  whether  a  description  suggests 
the  exact  truth  is  one  that  seldom  troubles  the  artistic 
writer.  What  he  desires  most  of  all  is  that  his  writing 
be  effective,  and  when  his  style  is  vividly  picturesque, 
with  the  imagination  working  freely,  then  it  is  that  he 
is  most  likely  to  succeed  in  his  purpose. 

In  securing  vividness  two  or  three  expedients  or  means 
have  long  been  known  to  be  valuable.  The  first  to  be 
mentioned  is  of  course  the  use  of  the  apt  word  or 
phrase.  The  importance  of  aptness  can  hardly  be  over- 
estimated, but  it  does  not  require  further  exposition. 
Next  to  be  considered  is  the  use  of  specific,  concrete 
words.  These  are  able  to  present  their  ideas  much  more 
vividly  and  intensely  than  general  or  abstract  words,  for 
very  simple  reasons.  Of  course  one  must  not  forget 
that  specific,  concrete  words  are  good  only  to  express 
ideas  that  are  equally  specific  and  concrete.  Abstract 
material  cannot  be  presented  concretely  without  making 
it  change  its  nature.  The  same  is  true  for  generalized 
material  and  specific  words.  Applying  this  caution  to 
the  work  of  the  artistic  writer,  who  wishes  his  style  to 
be  vivid,  we  may  say  that  it  is  necessary  for  him  to 
keep  his  ideas  out  of  the  realm  of  the  general  and  ab- 


LESSIKG'S  LAOCOGN 


311 


stract.  Thus  in  place  of  a  general  statement  he  should 
give  a  specific  instance,  and  he  should  fill  out  his  abstrac- 
tions with  enough  material  to  make  them  seem  concrete. 

The  reason  why  these  methods  produce  greater  vivid- 
ness is  not  difficult  to  find.  The  specific  word  is  much 
more  limited  than  the  general  extent  of  meaning.  It 
stands  for  but  one  particular  thing,  and  as  a  result  it 
is  likely  to  be  very  closely  associated  with  its  idea  and 
consequently  it  requires  little  effort  for  the  one  to  call 
up  the  other.  The  general  word,  on  the  other  hand, 
stands  for  a  number  of  things,  and  these,  though  usually 
similar,  are  by  no.  means  identical.  Therefore  the  en- 
ergy used  to  connect  the  word  with  its  idea  has  to  be 
made  to  cover  a  larger  territory  of  meaning  than  in 
the  case  of  the  specific  word,  and  naturally  this  gain  in 
breadth  is  obtained  only  by  a  corresponding  loss  in 
.intensity.  The  result  of  the  imaginative  process  is  that 
though  the  general  word  has  the  more  sensuous  mate- 
rial to  choose  from  in  embodying  its  idea,  it  has  after 
all  less  power  to  bring  up  any  idea  whatever,  and  con- 
sequently it  is  greatly  inferior  to  the  specific  word  in 
vividness  of  effect.  Similar  forces  operate  to  make  the 
concrete  word  more  vivid  than  the  abstract.  The  latter 
does  not  offer  the  imagination  much  definite  material 
out  of  which  to  build  conceptions.  That  which  it  does 
present  is  more  or  less  intangible.  The  concrete,  on 
the  other  hand,  generally  presents  material  that  is  easily 
imagined.  It  is  tangible  and  therefore  more  likely  to 
make  a  vivid  impression  on  the  imagination. 

Another  help  to  vividness,  one  that  is  closely  allied 
to  specificness  and  concreteness,  is  the  giving  to 
description  the  qualities  of  freshness  and  originality. 
We  all  know  the  effect  of  the  trite  and  the  common- 
place.   They  are  inefficient  not  only  because  they  are 


312 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


apt  to  lack  interest  in  themselves,  but  also  because  the 
mind  in  dealing  with  things  very  familiar  is  not  likely 
to  be  on  the  alert.  It  accepts  the  material  without 
trying  to  realize  it,  and  consequently  the  description 
has  no  chance  of  being  vivid  at  all.  It  treats  it  just  as 
it  does  the  performance  of  habitual  actions,  such  as 
walking  and  breathing.  The  control  is  given  over  to 
the  lower  centers.  The  mind  reads  the  various  details 
without  once  bringing  them  to  full  consciousness.  To 
obtain  the  greatest  vividness,  then,  the  mind  ought  to 
be  put  on  the  alert  by  being  compelled  to  master  some- 
thing new. 

Another  help  to  vividness  in  description  is  the  use  of 
apt  comparisons.  Not  only  are  these  likely  to  make 
strong  impressions  on  the  mind  of  the  reader,  but  they 
are  also  likely  to  convey  correct  impressions  as  well. 
Suppose,  for  example,  that  I  write  that  Mr.  So-and-so 
looks  like  Napoleon.  Almost  everyone  has  seen  a 
picture  of  the  latter,  and  his  appearance,  therefore,  has 
become  practically  universal  knowledge.  By  com- 
paring Mr.  So-and-so  with  Napoleon,  I  am  thus  likely 
to  enable  my  reader  to  use  a  common  basis  of  experi- 
ence with  myself.  The  same  would  be  true  if  I  should 
state  that  a  certain  building  had  the  shape  of  a  letter 
E,  or  if  in  my  description  I  should  make  any  other 
comparison  with  a  well-known  object.  Hence  apt 
comparisons  are  an  especially  valuable  means  of  giving 
what  is  called  the  fundamental  image, — of  mapping- 
out  for  the  reader  the  plan  or  outline  of  a  building  or 
in  representing  the  general  appearance  of  an  object 
or  scene. 

Figures  of  speech  play  a  part  somewhat  like  that  of 
comparison.  They  are  of  course  not  so  exact  as  the  lat- 
ter in  what  they  suggest,  but,  nevertheless,  the  help 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


313 


they  afford  to  description  is  quite  as  valuable  as  that 
obtained  through  any  other  means.  Like  comparisons, 
they  are  of  great  aid  in  synthesizing  ideas,  or  in  giving 
frameworks,  or  in  pointing  out  the  direction  for  the 
thought  to  go.  Then,  too,  they  are  very  stimulating, 
enabling  the  mind  to  do  more  work  with  less  conscious 
effort.1  If  a  writer  in  describing  a  man  says  that  he 
looks  like  a  bulldog,  or  if  he  calls  him  a  bulldog,  he 
may  at  once  suggest  by  that  simile  or  metaphor  a  pic- 
ture of  the  man  and  an  idea  of  his  personality  that  is 
nearer  the  truth  than  could  be  obtained  by  a  weighty 
list  of  details,  for  in  the  latter  case  the  reader  would 
have  difficulty  in  joining  the  different  parts  together. 
Of  course,  a  man  is  not  a  bulldog,  and  hence  there  must 
be  elements  in  the  latter  image  that  are  entirely  wrong 
for  the  representation  of  the  man,  but  the  mind  is  accus- 
tomed to  deal  with  such  inconsistencies.  We  have 
already  learned  that  such  a  matter-of-fact  detail  as  an 
aquiline  nose  is  likely  to  bring  up  not  only  an  image  of 
a  nose,  but  also  an  associated  background  which  is  gen- 
erally irrelevant.  Everything  we  say,  then,  is  likely  to 
have  connected  with  it  irrelevant  details,  consequently 
in  this  regard  figures  may  be  as  well  off  as  plain  facts. 
The  important  consideration  for  description  in  the  use  of 
either  comparisons  or  figures  is  that  there  be  an  essen- 
tial likeness  involved.  Then  the  comparison  or  figure 
leads  in  the  right  direction,  and  that  which  is  wrong  and 
unessential  may  be  modified  by  supplementary  details 
or  it  may  be  entirely  disregarded. 

If  true  figures  can  do  much  to  lead  us  in  the  right 
direction,  false  figures  are  just  as  potent  to  lead  us  in 


1 — This  point  is  made  for  the  Metaphor  in  Dr.  Buck's  "The 
Metaphor.  A  Study  in  the  Psychology  of  Ehetoric."  Inland 
Press,  Ann  Arbor.    An  excellent  treatment  of  the  figure.- 


314 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  wrong  direction.  We  should  therefore  be  as  care- 
ful about  the  accuracy  of  our  figures  as  of  our  facts. 
Beware  of  suggesting  likenesses  that  do  not  exist.  To 
be  sure,  we  are  not  always  consistent  in  these  matters. 
There  are  certain  moods  in  which  likenesses  appeal  to 
us  that  in  other  moods  would  seem  quite  unreal. 
Sometimes,  for  instance,  the  poet  out  in  the  midst  of 
trees  and  flowers  feels  toward  nature  a  personal 
relation.  He  would  like  to  personify  it.  Very  well; 
let  him  do  so.  If  he  can  put  us  in  the  same  mood  that 
he  feels,  then  nature  will  probably  appeal  to  us  in  the 
same  way,  and  what  he  says  will  have  nothing  incon- 
gruous about  it.  But  let  the  poet  beware !  Let  him 
make  sure  that  we  are  likely  to  fall  into  his  mood,  and 
let  him  see  to  it  that  all  he  says  is  natural  to  such  a 
state  of  feeling.  Otherwise  his  words  may  affect  us 
in  an  entirely  wrong  way.  They  may  appear  as  a  con- 
fusing body  of  labored  conceits  and  overdrawn  fancies. 
Such  I  believe  is  the  feeling  of  the  average  man  of  the 
present  generation  towards  Yon  Haller's  Alps,1  men- 
tioned in  the  Laocodn.  That  this  was  not  the  effect  upon 
Lessing  is  due  to  the  fact  that  his  age  had  become 
accustomed  to  looking  at  things  in  the  poet's  way.  If 

1 — Lessing  says  with  reference  to  this  description:  " The  learned 
poet  is  here  painting  plants  and  flowers  with  great  art  and  in 
strict  accordance  with  nature,  but  there  is  no  illusion  in  his  pic- 
ture. ' '  Laocoon  XVII.  The  translation  here  used  is  found  in 
Miss  Frothingham 's  Laocoon: 

The  lofty  gentian's  head  in  stately  grandeur  towers 

Far  o'er  the  common  herd  of  vulgar  weeds  and  low; 
Beneath  his  banners  serve  communities  of  flowers; 

His  azure  brethren,  too,  in  reverence  to  him  bow. 
The  blossom's  purest  gold  in  curving  radiations 

Erect  upon  the  stalk,  above  its  gray  robe  gleams; 
The  leaflets'  pearly  white  with  deep  green  variegations 

With  flashes  many-hued  of  the  moist  diamond  beams. 
O  Law  beneficent!  which  strength  to  beauty  plighteth, 
And  to  a  shape  so  fair  a  fairer  soul  uniteth. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


315 


I  choose,  1  too  can  look  at  that  description  from  a 
similar  point  of  view,  but  for  me  the  view  is  badly 
forced,  and  I  cannot  help  but  feel  conscious  that  the 
whole  thing  is  unreal  and  inartistic.  For  me  the 
description  is  greatly  lacking  in  vividness. 

No  description  can  be  vivid  that  is  not  interesting. 
The  material  must  be  of  such  a  nature  and  it  must  be 
put  in  such  a  form  that  it  compels  our  attention,  enlist- 
ing all  our  powers  for  its  realization.  But  we  know 
that  different  literary  epochs  are  interested  in  different 
phases  of  life  and  experience.  It  is  not  to  be  expected, 
then,  that  all  literary  periods  will  agree  in  their  admira- 
tion for  the  same  kinds  of  description.  We  should 
expect  to  find,  what  indeed  is  the  truth,  that  each  par- 
ticular age  develops  for  itself  certain  peculiarities  of 
descriptive  method.  This  introduces  into  criticism  a 
complicating  factor,  because  what  one  age  may  enjoy 
most  of  all,  may  seem  to  the  next  age  entirely  lacking 
in  artistic  qualities.  This  may  help  to  explain  why 
there  should  be  such  a  difference  between  Lessing's  feel- 
ing for  Von  Haller's  Alps  and  our  own. 

It  also  serves  to  bring  into  prominence  still  another 
important  factor  in  description,  which,  as  yet,  we  have 
not  sufficiently  emphasized.  Artistic  description  to  be 
successful  must  be  interesting,  but  one  of  the  most 
essential  requisites  for  this  interest  is  that  there  shall 
be  a  bond  of  sympathy  joining  writer  and  reader.  The 
true  artist  never  neglects  his  audience.  It  may  be 
large  or  small,  learned  or  popular.  He  may  miscon- 
ceive the  nature  of  it.  He  may  greatly  blunder  in 
making  his  appeal,  but  he  always  keeps  it  in  mind.  It 
is  this  feeling  for  his  audience  that,  more  than  anything 
else,  controls  his  choice  of  method  and  material. 
Rhetorical  theory  may  help  to  develop  him  by  showing 


316 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


how  he  can  get  control  of  his  instrument,  but  when  he 
has  reached  his  mastery,  it  will  merely  suggest, — it  will 
never  dictate.  If  it  expresses  his  own  artistic  convic- 
tions, he  will  of  course  apply  it ;  if  not,  he  will  un- 
doubtedly leave  it  alone. 


APPENDIX  A — I 


I 

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTES 

The  best  edition  of  the  Laoeoon  is  probably 

Lessings  Laokodn.  Herausgegeben  und  erlautert  von 
Hugo  Bliimner.  Zweite  verbesserte  und  vermehrte 
Auflage.  Mit  drei  Tafeln.  Berlin,  Weidmannsche 
Buchhandlung,  1880.    S.  xxv— 756. 

For  my  own  work,  however,  I  have  used  the  edition 
by  Hugo  Goring  in  the  Cotta  'sche  Bibliothek,  Stuttgart, 
and  the  translation  by  Ellen  Frothingham,  now  pub- 
lished by  Little,  Brown  and  Company. 

For  previous  criticisms  of  Lessing's  theories  see  the 
following : 

Herder.   Kritische  Walder.   Erstes  Waldchen. 

Bollman.  Ueber  das  Kunstprincip  in  Lessing's 
Laokodn  und  dessen  Begrilndung.  (Progr.  d.  Gym.  z, 
grauen  Kloster  in  Berlin,  1852.) 

Buck  and  Woodbridge.  A  Course  in  Expository 
Writing.  Henry  Holt  and  Company,  1901.  The  second 
chapter  touches  upon  Lessing's  psychology  of  vision. 

Edward  L.  Walter.  On  some  points  in  Lessing's 
Laoeoon.  Ann  Arbor,  1888.  An  admirable  monograph 
on  the  boundaries  of  poetry  and  painting,  apropos  of  the 
Laoeoon. 

C.  Rethwisch.  Der  oleibende  Wert  des  Laokodn.  Ber- 
lin, 1899.    A  brief  running  commentary  on  the  Ljaocodn. 

Ph.  Wegener.  Grundfragen  des  Sprachlebens.  Halle, 
1885.    See  especially  chapter  xxii. 

The  foregoing  references  relate  to  the  parts  of  the 
Laoeoon  discussed  in  this  essay.  For  other  Laoeoon 
material  the  reader  should  consult  Bliimner,  and 


317 


318 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Gayley  and  Scott.  An  Introduction  to  the  Methods 
and  Materials  of  Literary  Criticism.  Ginn  and  Com- 
pany, 1899. 

II 

In  his  Commentar  XVI,  s.  6121,  Bliimner  discusses 
Herder's  and  Bollman's  objections  to  Lessing's  treat- 
ment of  Homer.  Bollman  has  pointed  out  that  the 
Palace  and  Garden  of  Alcinous,  Odyssey,  VII,  are 
descriptions  that  traverse  Lessing's  theory  of  Homer's 
method.   Bliimner  says : 

"Lessing  hat  diese  Stellen  keineswegs  iibersehen. 
Er  sagt  in  dem  Entwurf  zum  2.  Theil  des  Laokoon. 
Frgt.  A.  5,  No.  XLI:  'Neue  Bestarkung,  dass  sich 
Homer  nur  auf  successive  Gemalde  eingelassen,  durch 
die  Widerlegung  einiger  Einwiirfe,  als  von  der  Be- 
schreibung  des  Palastes  in  der  Iliade  (soli  wohl  heissen 
"Odyssee").  Er  wollte  bloss  den  Begriff  der  Grosse 
dadurch  erwecken.  Beschreibung  der  Garten  des 
Alcinous;  auch  diese  beschreibt  er  nicht  als  schone 
Gegenstande,  die  auf  einmal  in  die  Augen  fallen, 
welches  sie  in  der  Natur  selbst  nicht  sind. '  Es  ist  zu 
bedauern,  dass  Lessing  diese  Andeutung  nicht  weiter 
ausgefiihrt  hat,  vielleicht  wiirde  seine  Ansicht 
dariiber  noch  deutlicher  geworden  sein.  In  der  That 
scheint  es  namlich  nicht,  als  ob  die  Schilderung  jenes 
Palastes  den  Begriff  der  Grosse  erwecken  solle; 
sondern  Homer  beabsichtigt  bei  dieser  Schilderung 
sowohl  wie  bei  der  Garten,  die  beide  ja  ganz  dicht 
beisammen  stehn  und  daher  eigentlich  nur  als  ein 
Beispiel  angefiihrt  werden  miissten,  den  Begriff  des 
Wunderbaren,  Uebernatiirlichen  zu  erwecken,  wozu 
nicht  nur  die  reichliche  Verwendung  kostbarer  Metalle 
beitragen  soil,  sondern  namentlich  die  kiinstlichen 
Bildwerke  von  der  hand  des  Hephaestos,  und  die  ewig 
bliihenden,  immer  Obst  tragenden  Garten. ' ' 

Bliimner  says  that  Homer  "schildert  Coexistentes. 
aber  nicht  urn  es  dem  H5rer  als  Solches  zum  Bewusstsein 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


319 


zu  bringen,  sondern  weil  er  eine  bestimmte  Vorstellung — 
der  Grosse  oder  des  Wunderbaren — durch  dieselbe 
erwecken  will." 

Apparently  Lessing  did  not  give  the  description  of 
the  palace  and  gardens  of  Alcinous  very  careful  con- 
sideration. If  he  had  he  would  hardly  have  called  it  a 
Neue  B est dr hung.  Bliimner  does  not  seem  to  appreciate 
fully  the  point  at  issue.  Homer  may  have  tried  to 
produce  the  effect  of  wonderfulness  or  of  greatness  or 
of  both.  The  description  certainly  does  impress  upon 
us  the  wonderfulness  of  the  building,  but  that  does 
not  prevent  it  from  giving  us  also  an  idea  of  what  the 
building  looks  like.  The  enumeration  of  the  coexistent 
parts  gives  us  a  picture  of  coexistent  parts.  Some  of 
the  details  may  be  forgotten  before  the  end  is  reached, 
but  the  total  effect  is  a  unified  impression  of  the  whole 
building.  I  have  lately  read  the  description  of  the 
palace  to  my  mother,  who  is  a  good  visualizer.  She  is 
very  positive  that  she  could  see  the  whole  palace  as  one 
picture.  In  fact,  she  was  very  much  surprised  to  learn 
that  some  persons  are  unable  to  visualize  the  descrip- 
tion at  all.  She  did  not  see  how  such  persons  could 
understand  it  or  remember  it  ;  her  thinking  and  her 
visual  images  generally  went  together,  and  one  seemed 
as  essential  as  the  other.  If  at  any  point  the  pictures 
came  to  her  later  than  the  ideas,  the  one  seemed  neces- 
sary to  complete  the  other.  For  instance,  when  I  read 
the  word  "bronze,"  she  could  not  at  once  see  the  exact 
shade  of  color.  The  nearest  she  could  come  to  it  was 
a  kind  of  brown,  and  her  idea  was  no  more  exact  than 
the  color-image.  As  she  expressed  it,  she  could  not  for 
a  moment  think  exactly  what  bronze  was  like.  Her 
imagery  was  made  up  from  things  she  had  seen,  either 
in   books   or   in   actual   experience.    Before  reading 


320 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Homer's  account  of  the  palace,  I  explained  briefly  the 
nature  of  the  description  and  its  setting.  As  I  began, 
she  saw  first  the  outside  of  an  old  castle  and  an  old 
man,  Odysseus,  approaching  it.  Then  the  scene  shifted 
to  the  inside  of  the  same  building.  As  new  details 
were  mentioned,  she  added  them  to  her  picture,  chang- 
ing the  original  conception  as  far  as  necessary.  She 
did  this  naturally  and  easily,  and  only  when  she  did 
not  understand  what  a  word  meant  did  she  feel  any 
confusion,  and  then  the  image  was  very  faint.  She 
said  that  if  at  any  time  when  she  read  a  description, 
she  found  she  had  an  entirely  wrong  conception  of  the 
object  described,  she  at  once  transferred  her  ideas  to 
a  new  conception  that  seemed  more  nearly  right.  A 
description  made  up  of  coexistent  details  gave  her  no 
trouble  whatever.  For  myself,  I  will  say  that  I  am  not 
so  strongly  visual.  My  imagery  is  usually  located 
geographically,  so  to  speak.  Though  I  seldom  see  it 
distinctly  as  a  picture,  I  can  map  it  out  pretty  ac- 
curately and  tell  the  size  and  position  of  the  details. 

Bliimner  continues : 

* '  Nun  bringt  Bollman  noch  eine  ganze  Zahl  anderer 
Homerstellen  bei,  die  gegen  Lessing  sprechen  sollen. 

.  .  .  Sollten  diese  zehlreichen  Beispiele,  'deren 
Anzahl  sicht  leicht  vermehren  Hesse/  alle  Lessing  ent- 
gangen  sein  ? — Unmoglich  !  Lessing  muss  sie  gekannt, 
aber  nicht  als  Einwiirf  e  betrachtet  haben.  Und  das  sind 
sie  denn  naher  betrachtet  auch  nicht.  Nirgends  ist  todte 
auf  zahlung  der  Theile,  iiberall  ist  Leben  und  Bewegungr 
so  bei  der  Grotto  der  Kalypso,  Od.  V,  59-73,  wo  diese 
selbst  geschildert  ist,  wie  sie  darin  sitzt,  singt  und  webt, 
wo  Vogel  hausen,  die  an  der  Kiiste  des  Meeres  auf  Raub 
spahen,  etc.;  ....  Vielfach  beschrankt  sich  die 
Schilderung  auf  zwei  bis  drei  Thatsachen :  solche  kurze 
Beschreibungen  zu  zerbieten,  ist  Lessing  natiirlich  nicht 
eingefallen.    .    .    .    .    Tch  kann  keine  einzige  der  von 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


321 


Bollman  angefiihrten  elf  Stellen  als  Widerlegung  von 
Lessing's  Darlegung  der  Homerischen  Methode  aner- 
kennen. ' ' 

I  have  not  quoted  all  that  Bliimner  has  to  say,  but 
here,  as  in  the  previous  extract,  Bliimner  does  not  see 
clearly  just  how  much  Lessing  proves  by  his  chain  of 
conclusions.  The  latter  argues  that  consecutive  signs 
can  express  only  objects  which  succeed  each  other  in 
time.  This  is  very  different  from  saying  that  con- 
secutive signs  can  or  should  express  only  objects  that 
have  life  or  movement.  In  the  description  of  the 
grotto,  in  the  description  of  the  ploughers  and  reapers 
on  the  shield,  etc.,  Homer  introduces  much  life  and 
movement.  But  that  fact  is  not  sufficient  to  make  these 
descriptions  supports  for  Lessing's  chain  of  conclu- 
sions. In  order  to  accomplish  this  it  is  necessary  to 
show  that  there  is  progress,  that  the  consecutive  signs 
represent  things  that  stand  in  a  like  consecutive  rela- 
tion. Therefore  such  a  description  as  that  of  the 
grotto  of  Calypso  is  decidedly  opposed  to  Lessing's 
theory.  All  the  things  mentioned — the  fire,  its  fra- 
grance, the  singing;  and  weaving  of  Calypso — though 
they  may  have  action,  are  contemporaneous.  The 
various  kinds  of  action  are  going  on  at  the  same  time. 
They  belong  to  one  picture.  An  enumerative  descrip- 
tion does  not  have  to  be  made  up  of  dry,  dead  facts,  as 
Bliimner  would  suggest. 

In  Commentar  XVIII,  s.  627,  in  reply  to  Herder's 
objection  that  the  description  of  the  shield  of  Achilles 
does  not  give  us  a  unified  picture  of  the  completed 
shield,  Bliimner  says : 

''Lessing  will  durchaus  nicht  sagen,  Homer  erreiche  bei 
seiner  Beschreibung  vom  Werden  des  Achillesschildes, 
dass  wir  den  werdenden  Schild  am  Schluss  der  Be- 


322 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


schreibung  als  gewordenen  vor  uns  sehen ;  er  betont  nur, 
dass  Homer  die  vielen  Bilder  nicht  nacheinander 
ermiidend  beschreibt,  sondern  sie  vor  unsern  Augen 
enstehen  lasst." 

If  Bliimner  is  correct  in  his  interpretation,  it  would 
appear  that  Dessing  meant  to  say  that  literature  finds 
it  impossible  to  portray  artistically,  by  any  means, 
coexisting  objects  as  coexistent.  I  think  we  have 
already  shown  the  absurdity  of  such  a  view.  Not  only 
is  it  possible  to  receive  unified  pictures  from  descrip- 
tions, it  is  even  possible  to  receive  them  from  progres- 
sive descriptions,  though  neither  the  example  of  the 
shield  nor  any  other  example  that  Lessing  mentions  is 
very  satisfactory.  Perhaps  the  best  illustrations  are 
to  be  found  in  mixed  narrative  and  description. 

Ill 

Rethwisch,  discussing  section  XVI,  makes  an  inter- 
esting distinction.    He  says: 

"Das  Korperliche  ist  de  eigentliche  Gegenstand  der 
Malerei. 

"Das  Geistige  ist  der  eigentliche  Gegenstand  der 
Poesie.    .  . 

"Yon  den  Organen  ausgehend  mit  denen  wir  Kunst- 
und  Dichtwerke  aufnehmen,  kann  man  sagen:  Die 
bildende  Kunst  fiihrt  ihre  Darstellugen  dem  ausseren, 
die  Dichtung  die  ihrigen  dem  inneren  Auge  vor,  jenes 
vermag  nur  Korperliches,  dieses  nur  Geistiges  aufzu- 
nehmen.  So  ist  das  Korperliche  das  Bereich  der  Kunst, 
das  Geistige  das  der  Dichtung.  Da  das  aussere  Auge 
aber  seine  Eindriicke  als  Vorstellungen,  also  als  etwas 
Geistiges,  an  das  innere  Auge  abgiebt,  so  kann  die  Kunst 
audi  Geistiges  darstellen,  wenn  auch  nur  mittelbar  durch 
Korperliches.  Und  da  das  innere  Auge  Vorstellungen 
durch  das  aussere  Auge  erhalt,  so  kann  die  Dichtung 
auch  Korperliches  darstellen,  wenn  auch  nur  mittelbar 
durch  Vorstellungen,  also  durch  etwas  Geistiges." 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


323 


IV 

Buck  and  Woolbridge  mildly  criticise  Lessing's  psy- 
chology of  vision.  But  though  their  account  is  interest- 
ing and  helpful  as  an  account  of  mental  processes,  I  do 
not  think  the  method  is  one  that  will  disprove  Lessing's 
theory. 

"To  a  certain  extent  Lessing's  view  was  right,  inas- 
much as  words  are  slow  things  compared  with  the  senses, 
and  language  is  slow  in  reproducing  what  the  senses 
have  been  quick  in  perceiving.  But  though  there  is  this 
disparity  in  speed,  it  ought  to  be  recognized  for  what 
it  is — a  difference  in  degree,  not  in  kind.  For  our  sense 
perceptions  only  appear  instantaneous,  they  are  not 
really  so,  but  as  we  shall  see,  follow  a  discoverable  order 
and  sequence;  and  it  is  this  order  and  sequence  which 
we  must  observe,  that  we  may  reproduce  it  in  the  mind 
of  our  listener. ' ' 

By  reference  to  the  effect  of  successive  instantaneous 
exposures  of  a  bunch  of  leaves  by  means  of  a  stereopticon 
or  similar  device,  the  authors  show  that  our  ordinary 
perceptions,  which  we  think  of  as  instantaneous,  really 
have  stages.  All  our  perceptions  pass  from  the  vague 
to  the  definite,  from  the  general  to  the  detailed.  In 
successive  glimpses  of  the  bunch  of  leaves,  first  we  see 
that  the  object  is  green,  then  that  it  is  green  leaves,  then 
that  there  are  different  kinds  of  leaves,  etc.  In  a  note 
we  are  told  that  the  mechanical  difficulties  in  these 
experiments  are  greater  than  might  be  supposed.  The 
exposures,  to  be  of  any  value,  must  be  managed  with  the 
greatest  care ;  they  must  be  exceedingly  short,  but  com- 
plete, etc. 

Now  it  seems  clear  that  a  method  of  this  sort  will 
not  disprove  Lessing's  theory.  If  the  process  of  per- 
ception is  really  so  rapid  that  we  have  to  go  to  all  this 


324 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


trouble  to  find  out  what  it  is, — that  is,  if  the  visual  de- 
tails follow  each  other  so  rapidly  as  to  appear  instan- 
taneous, language  is  certainly  not  rapid  enough  to 
compete  with  the  senses.  Lessing  in  that  case  would 
be  correct  in  saying  that  language  is  not  fitted  to  pro- 
duce pictorial  illusion  by  the  method  of  enumerated 
details.  Unless  we  can  show  that  language  unaided  is 
commensurate  in  speed  with  unobstructed  perception, 
we  have  lost  our  case.  But  the  authors  have  tried  to 
prove  something  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  prove  so 
far  as  Lessing  is  concerned.  Our  concepts  are  often 
complex  ideas.  The  words  green  leaves  suggest  not  a 
simple  idea  but  a  complex  idea  of  size,  color,  shape, 
etc.  All  these  different  notions  follow  just  as  quickly 
upon  the  concept  as  upon  the  perception  of  the  real 
object.  So  the  words  may  suggest  just  as  complex  a 
picture  as  we  should  obtain  from  a  glance  at  the  green 
leaves.  The  process  of  description  is  the  presentation 
of  a  further  analysis,  and,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
this  perceptual  analysis,  obtained  by  looking  at  the 
real  object,  requires  time  that  is  commensurate  with 
the  rapidity  of  language. 


V 

Wegener  in  his  Grundfragen  des  Sprachlebens  de- 
votes Chapter  XXII  to  an  attack  upon  Lessing 's  chain 
of  conclusions  (Laocoon,  XVI).  His  main  points  are 
the  following: 

Lessing  said  concerning  the  means  (Mittel)  of 
poetry:  1.  (rightly)  that  it  uses  articulated  tones  in  a 
time  order;  2.  that  these  means  are  imitative;  3.  that 
these  means  must  unquestionably  stand  in  a  suitable 
relation  to  the  thing  designated ;  and  that,  therefore,  4. 


LESSING 'S  LAOCOON 


325 


the  thing  designated,  like  the  means  of  imitation,  must 
possess  a  chronological  order. 

With  reference  to  2.  he  asks :  Is  poetry  really  imita- 
tive of  the  things  it  describes  ?  He  concludes  it  is  not, 
for  if  it  were,  then  the  whole  business  of  poetry  would 
be  the  imitating  of  articulated  tones.  He  then  asks : 
Is  poetry  even  an  exact  description  of  its  materials? 
He  says  to  describe  anything  such  as  an  action  means 
to  analyze  it  into  its  separate  parts  and  then  to  enumer- 
ate these  parts  one  after  the  other.  He  concludes  that 
poetry  is  not  even  a  description,  in  a  strict  sense. 
"Also  ist  nicht  bios  der  von  Lessing  angegebene  Grund 
falsch,  warum  die  Poesie  nur  Handlungen  darstellen 
konne,  sondern  auch  die  Thatsache  falsch,  dass  Poesie 
Handlungen  anschaulich  zu  beschreiben  vermochte.'' 

VI 

With  reference  to  Lessing 's  theory  of  vision,  compare 
the  following  from  James's  Principles  of  Psychology, 
II,  p.  45  f. : 

"Hume  was  the  hero  of  the  atomistic  theory.  Not 
only  were  ideas  copies  of  original  impressions  made  on 
the  sense-organs,  but  they  were,  according  to  him,  com- 
pletely adequate  copies,  and  were  all  so  separate  from 
each  other  as  to  possess  no  manner  of  connection.  Hume 
proves  ideas  in  the  imagination  to  be  completely  adequate 
copies,  not  by  appeal  to  observation,  but  by  a  priori  rea- 
soning. .  .  .  The  slightest  introspective  glance  will 
show  to  anyone  the  falsity  of  this  opinion.  Hume  surely 
had  images  of  his  own  works  without  seeing  distinctly 
every  word  and  letter  upon  the  pages  which  floated  be- 
fore his  mind's  eye.  His  dictum  is  therefore  an  exqui- 
site example  of  the  way  in  which  a  man  will  be  blinded 
by  a  priori  theories  to  the  most  flagrant  facts." 

Hume  lived  from  1711  to  1776;  Lessing  from  1729 
to  1781. 


326 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


VII 

The  objection  has  recently  been  urged  before  me  that 
I  have  left  out  of  account  the  man  of  genius  in  my 
discussion  of  the  rate  and  manner  in  which  people  take 
in  new  scenes.  It  was  admitted  that  I  had  stated  the 
facts  with  reference  to  the  great  majority  of  men  and 
women,  who  indeed  perceive  things  slowly  and  by  sepa- 
rate stages.  But  the  point  was  made  that  the  genius 
has  wonderful  powers  of  taking  in  a  whole  scene  at  a 
glance,  and  that  therefore  Lessing 's  theory  would  hold 
for  the  genius  if  not  for  the  ordinary  man.  I  admit 
that  I  have  not  had  the  opportunity  to  verify  my  theory 
in  this  particular.  I  have  read  of  the  wonderful  visual- 
izing powers  of  Macaulay,  and  of  painters  who  could 
reproduce  scenes  exactly  after  they  had  been  away  from 
them  for  a  number  of  years,  but  it  has  never  yet  been 
my  good  fortune  to  experiment  on  a  person  with  such 
extraordinary  powers.  However,  I  do  not  believe  that 
this  fact  vitiates  the  argument. 

That  there  is  a  great  difference  in  people  in  their 
powers  of  perception  is  true,  but  from  the  few  experi- 
ments I  have  tried  I  believe  it  is  a  difference  of  degree 
and  not  of  kind.  But  suppose  the  difference  is  one  of 
kind.  Geniuses  are  few  in  number.  Though  they  are 
the  producers  of  great  literary  works,  they  make  up  a 
very  small  percentage  of  the  audience  by  whom  the 
works  are  read.  Now  Lessing  argued — and  rightly,  too 
— from  the  standpoint  of  the  audience.  It  was  because 
he  believed  that  the  reader  does  not  see  things  in  the 
time  order  that  he  warned  the  writer  not  to  use  enumera- 
tive  description.  But  since  most  readers  do  see  things 
in  the  time  order,  we  can  say  at  least  that  Lessing  failed 
to  make  good  his  position  in  the  way  he  intended. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


327 


Again,  supposing  still  that  the  genius  sees  things  by  a 
process  essentially  different  from  that  of  the  ordinary 
mind,  why  is  he  so  well  qualified  to  act  as  the  mouth- 
piece of  the  ordinary  man?  How  can  he  make  his 
audience  understand  him?  Such  questions  as  these  lead 
one,  I  believe,  to  the  view  that  the  mental  operations  of 
the  genius  differ  from  those  of  other  men  in  degree 
rather  than  in  kind. 

Let  us  suppose  that  this  is  the  difference.  Let  us  say 
that  the  genius  simply  can  do  things  more  easily  and 
quickly  than  the  ordinary  man.  He  can  see  at  a  glance 
what  it  will  take  some  little  time  for  anyone  else  to  see 
equally  well.  Does  then  Lessing 's  theory  hold  good  for 
the  man  of  genius  ?  Is  the  latter  so  handicapped  by  his 
unusual  powers  that  he  is  less  fitted  than  other  men  to 
appreciate  the  enumerative  description  1  It  would  hardly 
seem  possible.  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  one  word 
alone  may  be  sufficient  to  call  up  a  complete  picture, 
and  the  stronger  a  person's  visualizing  powers  the  more 
will  he  be  able  to  call  up  with  a  single  word.  A  man 
with  genius  of  this  kind  differs  from  the  ordinary  man 
in  that  he  has  imagery  much  richer  and  more  concrete. 
Because  of  these  powers  it  ought  to  be  easier  for  him 
than  for  other  men  to  deal  with  enumerative  description. 
He  ought  to  be  able  to  harmonize  details  and  fuse  them 
together  with  a  success  which  is  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  ordinary  man. 


After  I  had  finished  this  section  of  the  appendix,  my 
attention  was  called  to  a  note  by  W.  C.  Lawton  and 
Russell  Sturgis  in  the  June  number  of  Scribner's  Maga- 
zine (1904,  p.  765),  entitled  "Poet  and  Artist."  I  quote 
a  few  lines  from  the  first  part : 


328 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


' '  In  general,  are  not  the  best  dramas,  epics,  romances, 
those  which  leave  impressed  upon  our  souls  one  or  two 
glorious  pictures — a  single  group  at  most,  usually  domi- 
nated by  one  heroic  figure?  ....  And  the  domi- 
nant central  figure  or  group  outlives  in  our  memory  all 
the  incidents  of  the  most  cleverly  woven  plot.  .  .  . 
And  conversely,  a  great  picture  is  by  no  means  enjoyed 
at  a  single  glance.  .  .  .  Such  loving  study  still  con- 
centrates, not  distracts,  our  gaze:  heightens,  not  lessens, 
the  unity  and  pathetic  meaning  of  the  picture.  .  .  . 
The  essential  identity  underlying  all  creative  art,  liter- 
ary and  plastic,  is  infinitely  more  important  than  any 
diversity  in  material  and  method." 


APPENDIX  A— II 


Psychological  Basis 

It  would  be  very  difficult  for  me  to  present  a  compre- 
hensive bibliography  for  this  part  of  the  subject,  and  I 
shall  not  try  to  do  so.  I  can  hardly  consider  myself  a 
specialist  in  psychology,  though  I  have  long  been  inter- 
ested in  the  study.  Almost  every  standard  text-book 
•contains  at  least  some  material  that  should  be  useful  to 
the  student  who  would  do  special  research  work  in 
rhetorical  problems.  Also  the  psychological  and  other 
journals1  occasionally  furnish  valuable  material  for  work 
•of  this  sort.  The  research  student  ought  to  know  some- 
thing about  the  whole  field  of  psychology  before  begin- 
ning his  investigation.  It  is  also  well  for  him  to  have 
had  experience  in  a  laboratory.  If  thus  equipped,  he  can 
easily  work  out  his  own  bibliography.  Nevertheless  it 
is  best  even  in  this  case  to  consult  a  specialist  in  psy- 
chology. 

The  preceding  remarks  are  of  course  intended  only 
for  the  very  advanced  special  research  worker.  They 
do  not  apply  to  the  student  who  desires  to  gain  merely 
a  fair  idea  of  the  fundamental  problems  of  description 
and  of  other  forms  of  art.  I  think  everything  presented 
in  this  book  should  be  clear  to  advanced  students  without 
any  previous  training  in  psychology.  My  work  is  sug- 
gestive rather  than  exhaustive.  It  does  not  call  for 
special  preparation. 

The  books  that  I  have  found  most  suggestive  for  my 

1 — Cf.  the  following:  Boyce  Some  Recent  Studies  on  Ideas  of 
Motion,  Science,  1883;  Mental  Imagery,  monograph  to  Psycholo- 
gical Eeview,  Vol.  II,  No.  3,  1898;  Bentley,  The  Memory,  Image 
and  its  Qualitative  Fidelity,  Am.  Jour,  of  Psych.,  Vol.  XI,  p.  1 ; 
Slaughter,  A  Preliminary  Study  of  Behavior  of  Mental  Images, 
Am.  Jour,  of  Psychol.,  Vol.  XIII,  p.  526. 


329 


330 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


own  work  are:  James's  Psychology  (2-vol.  ed.),  and 
the  Psychologies  of  Titchener,  and  Stout;  the  article 
Psychology,  in  the  Britannica,  by  Ward;  and  A.  Binet's 
Psychology  of  Reasoning.1 

I  have  sought  accuracy  in  all  my  work,  and  I  hope  I 
have  not  made  many  mistakes.  Much  that  I  have  said 
needs  testing,  especially  with  reference  to  the  subjective 
part,  but  introspective  results  of  course  always  need  to 
be  substantiated  by  numerous  observers.  I  do  not  think 
I  have  offered  much  that  is  surprisingly  new  to  a  psy- 
chologist. Though  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  psychological  material  yet  needed  for  the  study 
of  perception,  and  for  the  study  of  the  nature  and  forms 
of  mental  imagery. 

The  objection  has  been  offered  to  my  method  of  testing 
what  is  in  a  person's  mental  image  (Ch.  Ill),  that  I  con- 
fused memory  with  perception,  and  that  a  person  sees 
much  more  than  he  can  remember.  The  objection  is  per- 
haps partly  valid,  but  it  is  not  sufficient  to  give  any 
ground  for  still  supporting  Lessing's  theory  of  vision. 
The  latter  I  show  to  be  in  error  by  still  other  methods  of 
argument.  It  is  difficult  to  determine  just  how  im- 
portant a  part  memory  plays  in  the  perceptive  process 
I  describe.  However,  I  cannot  believe,  judging  from  my 
own  experiments,  that  we  really  see  much  more  than  we 
can  recall,  when  the  questioning  is  done  immediately 
after  seeing.  At  least  the  part  we  forget  (?)  could  not 
have  been  seen  very  plainly,  and  probably  never  reached 
consciousness  at  all.  But  this  is  a  point  that  I  am  will- 
ing to  leave  open  for  others  to  decide. 


1 — The  last  work  is  published  in  translation  by  the  Open  Court 
Publishing  Co.,  Chicago. 


APPENDIX  A— III 

Rhetoric 

STRANGE  as  it  may  seem,  there  is  no  book  that 
deals  adequately  with  the  complete  history  of 
rhetoric.  There  are  several  that  pretend  to  do 
so,  and  they  may  succeed  in  so  far  as  they  go, 
but  all,  if  I  mistake  not,  regard  the  work  of 
Aristotle  as  the  culminating  point  in  the  whole  history. 
This  is  an  erroneous  belief  very  prevalent  but  very 
misleading.  With  this  conception  in  mind,  no  one  can 
correctly  appreciate  the  growth  of  mediaeval  and  mod- 
ern rhetoric.  Aristotle,  though  he  has  exerted  consid- 
erable influence,  is  after  all  somewhat  out  of  the  direct 
line  of  development.  Even  in  his  own  time  rhetoric 
was  becoming  something  more  than  the  art  of  persua- 
sion, and  he  himself  unconsciously  recognized  the  fact 
by  introducing  into  his  work  the  epideictic  division 
of  the  subject. 

An  adequate  history  of  rhetoric  ought  to  treat  the 
subject  genetically.  It  ought  to  trace  for  us  the  part 
that  rhetoric  has  played  in  the  educational  system  of 
each  age — and  the  consequent  actions  and  reactions. 
It  ought  to  show  us  the  causes  that  have  produced  each 
change  in  this  gradual  evolution.  Modern  rhetoric 
will  not  then  be  treated  as  a  deteriorated  form,  which 
it  is  not,  but  as  the  current  stage  of  an  evolution  which 
has  continually  tried  to  meet  the  practical  needs  of 
the  educational  environment.  Such  a  history  ought  to 
present  much  of  interest,  and  it  ought  to  place  the  sub- 
ject on  a  much  more  scientific  basis. 


331 


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ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


In  the  few  suggestions  which  I  now  wish  to  offer,  it 
is  not  at  all  my  purpose  to  give  the  materials  for  such 
a  history.  I  merely  wish  to  suggest  a  possible  course 
of  reading  for  the  use  of  the  student  who  desires  to 
gain  a  fair  idea  of  the  general  nature  of  this  evolution. 

A  good  introduction  to  the  subject  is  the  article 
*l Rhetoric"  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  vol.  XX. 
This  is  of  value  chiefly  for  its  treatment  of  the  ancient 
rhetorics.  It  was  written  by  Jebb.  A  much  longer 
work  is  the  same  author's  The  Attic  Orators,  from 
Antiphon  to  Isceos,  Macmillan,  1876. 

Another  work  which  not  only  deals  with  ancient 
rhetorics  but  with  later  ones  as  well,  is  Saintsbury's 
A  History  of  Criticism,  in  3  vols.,  Wm.  Blackwood  & 
Sons,  Edinburgh  and  London.  This  treatment  is  some- 
times exasperating,  but  it  presents  much  very  useful 
information.  It  offers  quite  a  little  about  Byzantine 
rhetoric. 

Miiller  and  Donaldson's  A  History  of  the  Literature  of 
Ancient  Greece,  in  3  vols.,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co., 
has  sections  that  deal  with  the  history  of  Greek  rhetoric. 

Mullinger's  Schools  of  Charles  the  Great,  London, 
1877,  and  Rashdall's  The  Universities  of  Europe  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  in  3  vols.  (2nd  vol.  has  two  parts),  Claren- 
don Press,  Oxford,  1895,  are  the  best  books  I  know  of  for 
a  treatment  of  mediaeval  rhetoric. 

Carpenter's  edition  of  The  Arte  or  Craft e  of  Bhe- 
thoryke,  by  Cox,  has  some  very  valuable  material  for 
the  study  of  Renascence  rhetoric. 

These  are  the  best  general  works  in  English  that  I 
know  of.  But  a  student  should  read  besides  as  many  of 
the  older  rhetorics  themselves  as  possible.  Many  of  these 
are  to  be  found  in  translation. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


333 


The  student  should  at  least  read  Plato's  Phcedrus  and 
Gorgias  (translated  by  Jowett),  Aristotle's  Rhetoric  and  ' 
Poetics,  and  Longinus  On  the  Sublime,  for  an  idea  of 
Greek  Rhetorical  theory. 

For  the  Latin,  the  Bohn  Library  contains  a  transla- 
tion of  the  rhetorical  works  of  Cicero  and  also  a  transla- 
tion of  Quintilian's  Institutes  of  Oratory.  Both  are  very 
important,  and  it  should  be  remembered  with  reference 
to  Cicero  as  well  as  in  the  study  of  other  rhetorical  works 
that  it  is  not  always  the  best  contributions  that  have  had 
the  most  influence.  This  is  especially  true  for  rhetoric 
in  the  Middle  Ages. 

I  do  not  know  of  any  early  mediaeval  rhetoric  in 
translation. 

Cox's  The  Arte  or  Craft e  of  Bhethoryke  is  a  good 
example  of  Renascence  rhetoric,  and  has  been  made 
easily  accessible  through  a  reprint  by  Frederic  I.  Car- 
penter, University  of  Chicago  Press,  Chicago,  1899. 
Besides  presenting  much  bibliographical  material  for  the 
period,  the  reprint  contains  an  analysis  and  outline  of 
the  rhetoric  of  Melanchthon,  also  a  reprint  of  a  portion 
of  Melanchthon 's  Institutiones  Bhetoricce. 

There  are  several  "arts  of  poetry"  belonging  to  this 
period  that  may  be  studied  with  profit.  Several  of 
these  are  to  be  found  among  the  Arber  Reprints.  A.  S. 
Cook  has  edited  one  or  two  that  are  published  by  Ginn 
&  Company. 

Of  the  early  modern  works,  Henry  Home's  (Lord 
Karnes)  Elements  of  Criticism,  Hugh  Blair's  Lectures 
on  Rhetoric  and  Belles-Lettres,  and  George  Campbell's 
Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  are  the  most  important.  All 
are  easily  accessible. 

I  do  not  wish  to  mention  works  for  the  Nineteenth 
century.  The  student  should  consult  all  that  he  can 
find,  also  the  school  readers. 


334 


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I  believe  it  is  best  to  make  this  study  comparative. 
How  is  each  work  different  from  its  neighbors  and  why 
is  it  different?  Is  the  educational  environment  differ- 
ent? etc.  The  answering  of  such  questions  as  these  will 
give  to  the  study  a  profitableness  and  interest  that  it 
could  not  otherwise  have. 

The  following  text-books  are  the  ones  which  I  have 
used  most  of  all  in  my  work  in  description.  They  have 
been  made  use  of  both  for  ideas  and  for  illustrative 
materials : 

Baldwin,  Specimens  of  Prose  Description,  H.  Holt  & 
Co,  1895. 

A.  S.  Hill,  Principles  of  Rhetoric,  American  Book  Co, 
1895. 

Genung,  Working  Principles  of  Rhetoric,  Ginn  & 
Co,  1901. 

Gardiner,  Forms  of  Prose  Description,  Scribner's, 
1900. 

Scott  and  Denney,  Composition-Literature,  Allyn  & 
Bacon,  1902. 

Gardiner,  Kittredge  and  Arnold,  Mother  Tongue,  bk. 
Ill,  Ginn  &  Co,  1902. 


APPENDIX  B 


Experimental  Material 
I 

OOK  at  the  Japanese  picture  for  not  more  than 


two  or  three  seconds.    Close  the  eyes  and  try  to 


M.  A  recall  what  was  the  impression  it  made  upon  you. 
Then  look  at  it  again  very  briefly.  Close  the  eyes  and 
note  any  new  details  that  come  from  this  second  view. 
This  procedure  may  be  repeated  several  times.  Lastly, 
study  the  picture  thoroughly.  What  is  your  final  im- 
pression %  How  is  it  different  from  the  first  %  Did  you 
see  any  details  wrongly?  Did  your  first  conception 
lack  in  accuracy  as  well  as  in  definiteness  ? 

This  experiment  may  be  tried  on  any  unfamiliar 
object  or  scene.  Also,  it  may  be  used  with  another 
person  as  subject. 


Take  a  picture,  such  as  the  "Challenge,"1  and  try 
the  experiment  suggested  in  chapter  III.  Care  must 
be  taken  in  choosing  a  picture.  It  ought  to  be  complex 
enough  to  tax  the  observer's  powers  without  going  so 
far  as  to  confuse  them.  The  Japanese  drawing  oppo- 
site page  335  should  only  be  used  with  extremely  good 
visualizers,  or  at  least  not  until  simpler  material  has 
been  tried.  Let  the  subject  look  at  the  picture  until 
he  thinks  he  can  carry  it  all  in  his  mind's  eye.  Note 
the  time  spent.    Then  find  out  in  so  far  as  possible 


1  — The  Challenge  is  No.  914  of  the  Perry  Pictures. 


II 


335 


336 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


what  is  really  in  the  person's  mental  image  by  discreet 
questions.  Some  shrewdness  must  here  be  used.  Usu- 
ally the  questions  ought  not  to  be  misleading,  and  at 
the  same  time  they  should  go  beyond  the  self-evident. 
The  experimenter  himself  must  have  studied  the  pic- 
ture until  he  knows  it  thoroughly,  though  he  may  have 
it  before  him  as  he  asks  the  questions.  Next,  put  the- 
material  obtained  from  the  answers  in  a  condensed 
description  and  compare  the  time  it  takes  to  read  it 
with  the  time  it  required  to  see  the  details.  The  sub- 
ject should  be  tested  both  with  reference  to  the  details 
seen  and  with  reference  to  the  relations  of  part  to  part. 
If  the  subject  is  a  good  draughtsman,  it  is  interesting 
to  have  him  block  out  on  paper  the  relative  positions 
of  the  different  parts. 

Ill 

Get  as  subjects  good  draughtsmen.  Read  the  follow- 
ing description  to  them  several  times,  if  necessary,  and 
then  ask  them  to  block  out  rapidly  on  paper  the  pic- 
ture that  is  suggested.    Compare  results: 

"  Almost  everybody  knows,  in  our  part  of  the  world 
at  least,  how  pleasant  and  soft  the  fall  of  the  land  i& 
round  about  Plover's  Barrows  farm.  All  above  it  is 
strong  dark  mountain,  spread  with  heath,  and  desolate, 
but  near  our  house  the  valleys  cove,  and  open  warmth 
and  shelter.  Here  are  trees,  and  bright  green  grass,, 
and  orchards  full  of  contentment,  and  a  man  may 
scarce  espy  the  brook,  although  he  hears  it  everywhere. 
And,  indeed,  a  stout  good  piece  of  it  comes  through 
our  farm-yard,  and  swells  sometimes  to  a  rush  of 
waves,  when  the  clouds  are  on  the  hill-tops.  But  all 
below,  where  the  valley  bends,  and  the  Lynn  stream 
goes  along  with  it,  pretty  meadows  slope  their  breast, 
and  the  sun  spreads  on  the  water.  And  nearly  all  of 
this  is  ours,  till  you  come  to  Nicholas  Snowe's  land." — 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


337 


Blackmore:  Lorna  Boone.  Quoted  in  Baldwin's  Speci- 
mens of  Prose  Description. 

This  experiment  may  be  varied  by  trying  to  deter- 
mine what  is  in  the  subject's  mental  image  at  the  end 
of  each  reading.  He  may  be  asked  himself  to  describe 
the  picture  he  sees.  When  he  hears  the  description 
read  again,  does  the  same  picture  come  up  in  his  mind? 
It  is  interesting  to  find  out  the  effect  of  the  description 
of  the  brook.  Also,  it  is  interesting  to  study  how  the 
pictures  crystallize  from  the  description.  What  words 
or  word  combinations  call  up  the  most  vivid  con- 
ceptions ? 

IV 

Try  an  experiment  similar  to  that  mentioned  in 
Chapter  VII  with  reference  to  incongruous  back- 
grounds. Take  the  phrase  11  brown  eyes,"  for  example, 
and  note  if  it  is  imagined  alone  or  in  connection  with 
faces.   If  the  latter,  what  kind  of  faces? 

V 

Test  the  relative  value  of  different  classes  of  words 
for  purposes  of  description.  For  this  study  use  the 
various  descriptions  found  in  the  next  general  section 
of  the  appendix.  Are  verbs  more  powerful  than  other 
words?  Are  participial  adjectives  better  than  other 
adjectives?  Are  the  qualifiers  as  helpful  as  the  words 
qualified?  What  are  the  most  suggestive  words  in  the 
following  sentence? 

' '  Two-horse  batteries  trot  briskly  into'  view  from  the 
leafy  shelter  in  which  they  had  been  lurking. ' ' 

VI 

Von  Haller's  Alps.  Lessing  says  with  reference  to 
this  description:    "The  learned  poet  is  here  painting 


338 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


plants  and  flowers  with  great  art  and  in  strict  accord- 
ance with  nature,  but  there  is  no  illusion  in  his 
picture."  Discuss  Lessing's  criticism.  Is  this  descrip- 
tion natural  ?  Are  the  words  used  likely  to  call  up  the 
correct  picturesque  impressions?  Can  this  type  of 
description  be  justified?  Compare  it  with  Thompson's 
"Spring,"  Lowell's  "Vision  of  Sir  Launfal."  The 
rendering  here  used  is  that  found  in  Miss  Frothing- 
ham's  translation  of  the  Laocoon.  It  is  very  fair  to  the 
original,  I  think. 

"The  lofty  gentian's  head  in  stately  grandeur  towers 
Far  o  'er  the  common  herd  of  vulgar  weeds  and  low ; 
Beneath  his  banners  serve  communities  of  flowers ; 
His  azure  brethren,  too,  in  rev'rence  to  him  bow. 
The  blossom's  purest  gold  in  curving  radiations 
Erect  upon  the  stalk,  above  its  gray  robe  gleams; 
The  leaflets'  pearly  white  with  deep  green  variegations 
With  flashes  many  hued  of  the  moist  diamond  beams. 
0  Law  beneficent !  which  strength  to  beauty  plighteth, 
And  to  a  shape  so  fair  a  fairer  soul  uniteth. 

VII 

Negative  statements.  What  visual  images,  if  any,  do 
the  following  statements  arouse  ? 

There  wasn't  a  stick  of  wood  in  the  woodbox. 

He  could  not  see  a  man  anywhere. 

The  moon  no  longer  shone  through  the  window  panes. 

The  stove  was  not  in  the  center  of  the  room. 

Not  a  leaf  to  be  seen. 

The  view  extended  with  every  step;  scarce  a  tree, 
scarce  a  house.,  appeared  upon  the  fields  of  wild  hill 
that  ran  north,  east,  and  west,  all  blue  and  gold  in  the 
haze  and  sunlight  of  the  morning. 

VIII 

In  what  ways  is  contrast  valuable  to  description? 
Repetition? 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


339 


Is  climax  of  any  value? 

Why  are  Synecdoche  and  Metonomy  effective  in 
description  ? 

Why  is  it  that  the  trite  is  so  likely  to  be  ineffective? 

Discuss  the  use  of  such  epithets  as  the  following :  The 
parched  desert,  green  meadows,  the  wet  waves,  the 
briny  deep,  high  Olympus,  broad  expanse. 

IX 

Make  a  study  of  the  beautiful  in  description.  Less- 
we  like  to  have  Thersites  described  as  ugly?  What  is 
the  element  of  pleasure  in  caricature? 

X 

Make  a  study  of  the  beautiful  in  description.  Less- 
ing  says,  that  we  can  describe  beauty  by  its  effect. 
However,  does  the  mentioning  of  an  effect  necessarily 
suggest  the  cause, — that  is,  in  this  case,  the  beautiful 
itself  ?  Do  we  imagine  Helen 's  beauty  the  more  vividly 
because  we  are  told  of  its  effect  upon  the  old  men  of 
Troy?  (The  Iliad,  bk.  III).  Cf.,  also,  the  following: 
"Walpole  thus  gives  an  impression  of  the  Gunning  sis- 
ters: 'They  can't  walk  in  the  park,  or  go  to  Vauxhall, 
but  such  mobs  follow  them  that  they  are  generally 
driven  away. '  When  one  of  them  was  presented,  *  even 
the  noble  mob  in  the  drawing-room  clambered  upon 
chairs  and  tables  to  look  at  her.  There  are  mobs  at 
their  doors  to  see  them  get  into  their  chairs ;  and  people 
go  early  to  get  places  at  the  theatres  when  it  is  known 
they  will  be  there.'  "x 

Are  these  descriptions  informational  or  picturesque? 
If  the  latter,  what  is  it  that  occupies  the  center  of  vision 
in  the  imagination— the  beautiful  sisters,  or  the  crowd 


1— Quoted  by  A.  S.  Hill,  Principles  of  Bhetoric,  1895,  p.  270. 


340 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


looking  at  them?  Compare  with  the  description  of 
Helen : 

"O'er  her  fair  face  a  snowy  veil  she  threw, 
And,  softly  singing,  from  the  loom  withdrew: 
Her  handmaids  Clymene  and  iEthra  wait 
Her  silent  footsteps  to  the  Scaean  gate. 

"There  sat  the  silent  seniors  of  the  Trojan  race, 

(Old  Priam's  chiefs,  and  most  in  Priam's  grace,) 

The  king  the  first ;  Thymoetes  at  his  side ; 

Lampus  and  Clytins,  long  in  council  try'd; 

Panthus,  and  Hicetaon  once  the  strong; 

And  next,  the  wisest  of  the  reverend  throng; 

Antenor  grave,  and  sage  Ucalegon, 

Lean'd  on  the  walls,  and  bask'd  before  the  sun. 

Chiefs  who  no  more  in  bloody  fights  engage, 

But  wise  through  time,  and  narrative  with  age, 

In  summer  days  like  grasshoppers  rejoice,  * 

A  bloodless  race,  that  send  a  feeble  voice. 

These,  when  the  Spartan  Queen  approach 'd  the  tower. 

In  secret  own'd  resistless  beauty's  power; 

They  cried,  No  wonder,  such  celestial  charms 

For  nine  long  years  have  set  the  world  in  arms ; 

What  winning  graces !  what  majestic  mien ! 

She  moves  a  Goddess,  and  she  looks  a  Queen ! 

Yet  hence,  0  Heaven!  convoy  that  fatal  face, 

And  from  destruction  save  the  Trojan  race." 

— Pope's  translation. 
Is  this  purely  a  description  by  effect? 

XI 

Choose  a  suitable  description,  and  with  it  study  the 
problem  of  "fluctuation  of  attention."  See  chapter 
IX,  page  171  ff. 

XII 

Make  a  study  of  the  point  of  view  in  artistic  descrip- 
tion. See  chapter  IX,  page  183  ff.  To  what  extent 
and  in  what  way  does  the  personality  of  the  reader 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


341 


enter  into  the  scenes  he  imagines?  Where  with  refer- 
ence to  himself  do  the  scenes  appear  to  take  place? 

XIII 

Study  the  use  of  "mood"  in  description.  How  are 
moods  produced,  and  what,  if  any,  is  the  effect  on  the 
mental  imagery? 

XIY 

Which  senses  arouse  the  most  vivid  impressions?  It 
is  said  that  appeals  to  the  sense  of  smell  are  particu- 
larly suggestive.  Is  this  true  for  everyone  ?  Is  there 
any  difference  in  the  character  of  the  emotional  effect 
that  the  various  senses  are  able  to  produce? 

XV 

Make  a  study  of  the  boundaries  of  the  types  of  dis- 
course, especially  with  reference  to  the  different  kinds 
of  1  1  presentative  "  material. 

XVI 

Read  through  a  number  of  fairly  long  descriptions, 
noting  what  are  the  various  means  used  to  arouse  and 
maintain  interest. 

XVII 

The  methods  and  types  of  description  may  be  con- 
sidered historically.  That  is,  all  literary  epochs  have 
not  looked  with  equal  favor  on  the  same  types  and 
methods  of  description.  It  is  not  without  interest  to 
compare  the  different  literary  periods  with  the  object 
of  determining  what  were  the  types  especially  favored 
in  each  age.  Compare,  with  reference  to  the  use  of 
epithets,  the  enumerative  description,  the  progressive, 
the  long  and  short  description,  etc.  Individual  writers 
have  also  had  their  particular  favorites.    In  any  or  all 


342 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


of  these  cases,  do  the  favored  descriptions  stand  in  a 
harmonious  relation  to  the  other  literary  characteris- 
tics of  the  period  or  writer? 


APPENDIX  C 
Illustrative  Material 

THE  Bay  of  Monterey  has  been  compared  by  no 
less  a  person  than  General  Sherman  to  a  bent 
fishing-hook ;  and  the  comparison,  if  less  important 
than  the  march  through  Georgia,  still  shows  the  eye  of 
a  soldier  for  topography.  Santa  Cruz  sits  exposed  at 
the  shank;  the  mouth  of  the  Salinas  river  is  at  the 
middle  of  the  bend;  and  Monterey  itself  is  cozily  en- 
sconced beside  the  barb.  Thus  the  ancient  capital  of 
California  faces  across  the  bay,  while  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
though  hidden  by  low  hills  and  forest,  bombards  her  left 
flank  and  rear  with  never-dying  surf.  In  front  of  the 
town,  the  long  line  of  sea-beach  trends  north  and  north- 
west, and  then  westward  to  enclose  the  bay. — Stevenson, 
Across  the  Plains. 

This  description  is  often  quoted  as  an  example  of 
skillful  outlining.  However,  if  a  person  unfamiliar 
with  the  place  tries  to  draw  a  map  of  it  by  means  of 
the  description,  he  meets  with  some  difficulty.  Is  the 
bay  a  narrow  strip  of  water  curving  inland  like  a  fish- 
ing-hook, or  is  it  a  broad  chunky  piece  with  a  shore  line 
that  suggests  to  the  observer  the  fishing-hook's  shape? 
Does  the  description  say? 


The  room  in  which  the  House  meets  is  the  south  wing 
of  the  Capitol,  the  Senate  and  the  Supreme  Court  being 
lodged  in  the  north  wing.  It  is  more  than  twice  as 
large  as  the  English  House  of  Commons,  with  a  floor 
about  equal  in  area  to  that  of  Westminster  Hall,  139 
feet  long  by  93  feet  wide  and  36  feet  high.  Light  is 
admitted  through  the  ceiling.    There  are  on  all  sides 


343 


344 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


deep  galleries  running  backward  over  the  lobbies,  and 
capable  of  holding  two  thousand  five  hundred  people. 
The  proportions  are  so  good  that  it  is  not  until  you 
observe  how  small  a  man  looks  at  the  farther  end,  and 
how  faint  ordinary  voices  sound,  that  you  realize  its 
vast  size.  The  seats  are  arranged  in  curved  concen- 
tric rows  looking  toward  the  Speaker,  whose  handsome 
marble  chair  is  placed  on  a  raised  marble  platform  pro- 
jecting slightly  forward  into  the  room,  the  clerks  and 
the  mace  below  in  front  of  him,  in  front  of  the  clerks 
the  official  stenographer,  to  the  right  the  seat  of  the 
sergeant-at-arms.  Each  member  has  a  revolving  arm- 
chair, with  a  roomy  desk  in  front  of  it,  where  he  writes 
and  keeps  his  papers.  Behind  these  chairs  runs  a  rail- 
ing, and  behind  the  railing  is  an  open  space  into  which 
some  classes  of  strangers  may  be  brought,  where  sofas 
stand  against  the  wall,  and  where  smoking  is  practised, 
even  by  strangers,  though  the  rules  forbid  it. 

When  you  enter,  your  first  impression  is  of  noise  and 
tumult,  a  noise  like  that  of  short,  sharp  waves  in  a 
Highland  loch,  fretting  under  a  squall  against  a  rocky 
shore.  The  raising  and  dropping  of  desk-lids,  the 
scratching  of  pens,  the  clapping  of  hands  to  call  the 
pages,  keen  little  boys  who  race  along  the  gangways, 
the  pattering  of  many  feet,  the  hum  of  talking  on  the 
floor  and  in  the  galleries,  make  up  a  din  over  which  the 
Speaker,  with  the  sharp  taps  of  his  hammer,  or  the 
orators,  straining  shrill  throats,  find  it  hard  to  make 
themselves  audible.  Nor  is  it  only  the  noise  that  gives 
the  impression  of  disorder.  Often  three  or  four  mem- 
bers are  on  their  feet  at  once,  each  shouting  to  catch 
the  Speaker's  attention.  Others,  tired  of  sitting  still, 
rise  to  stretch  themselves,  while  the  Western  visitor, 
long,  lank,  and  imperturbable,  leans  his  arms  on  the 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


345 


Tailing,  chews  his  cigar,  and  surveys  the  scene  with 
little  reverence.  —  Bryce,  American  Commonwealth. 
'Quoted  in  Scott  and  Denney's  Composition-Literature. 


In  Wolmer  Forest  I  see  but  one  sort  of  stone,  called 
by  the  workmen  sand,  or  forest-stone.  This  is  gen- 
erally of  the  color  of  rusty  iron,  and  might  probably 
be  worked  as  iron  ore,  is  very  hard  and  heavy,  and  of 
s,  firm,  compact  texture,  and  composed  of  a  small, 
roundish,  crystalline  grit,  cemented  together  by  a 
brown,  terrene,  ferruginous  matter;  will  not  cut  with- 
out difficulty,  nor  easily  strike  fire  with  steel.  Being 
often  found  in  broad  flat  pieces,  it  makes  good  pave- 
ment for  paths  about  houses,  never  becoming  slippery 
in  frost  or  rain,  is  excellent  for  dry  walls,  and  is  some- 
times used  in  buildings.  In  many  parts  of  that  waste 
it  lies  scattered  on  the  surface  of  the  ground,  but  is 
dug  on  Weaver 's  Down,  a  vast  hill  on  the  eastern  verge 
of  that  forest,  where  the  pits  are  shallow  and  the 
stratum  thin.  This  stone  is  imperishable. — White, 
Natural  History  of  Selborne,  vol.  1. 


[Dante.]  The  head  of  Dante  corresponds  in  every 
sense  to  the  well-known  mask  which  has  hitherto 
served  as  a  model  to  artists  of  every  age.  The  high 
and  fair  forehead,  the  regular  curve  of  the  brow,  and 
somewhat  deep  sunken  eye,  the  hooked  nose,  classic 
mouth  and  slightly  pointed  chin,  are  all  equally  char- 
acteristic. But  this,  which  was  true  when  the  head 
was  first  rescued  from  whitewash,  is  much  less  so  now. 
The  profile  has  been  taken  up  and  revived,  but  the 
outline  much  enfeebled  in  the  operation.  A  portion 
of  the  eye  which  was  gone,  including  the  greater  part 
of  the  iris  to  the  upper  lid,  has  been,  with  a  part  of 


346 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


the  cheek,  supplied  anew  by  the  restorer.  No  care  or 
trouble  can,  indeed,  ever  secure  an  exact  similarity  of 
tone  between  old  and  new  color,  the  latter  tending  to 
continual  change,  whilst  the  former  remains  compari- 
tively  fixed ;  but  here  it  would  seem  not  only  that  the 
vacant  space  has  been  filled  up,  but  that  an  attempt 
has  been  made  to  harmonize  the  new  with  the  old  by 
glazing  and  touching  up  the  latter.  The  result  is  a 
general  feeble  tone  of  yellow  without  light  or  trans- 
parence— which  after  all  are  the  best  qualities  of 
fresco.  The  bonnet  has  not  only  been  restored,  but 
altered  in  color  as  well  as  in  form. — Crowe  and  Caval- 
caselle,  A  New  History  of  Painting  in  Italy. 


The  Leeds  and  Skipton  railway  runs  along  a  deep 
valley  of  the  Aire;  a  slow  and  sluggish  stream,  com- 
pared to  the  neighboring  river  of  Wharfe.  Keighley 
station  is  on  this  line  of  railway,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  town  of  the  same  name.  The  number  of 
inhabitants  and  the  importance  of  Keighley  have  been 
greatly  increased  during  the  last  twenty  years,  owing 
to  the  rapidly  extended  market  for  worsted  manufac- 
tures, a  branch  of  industry  that  mainly  employs  the 
factory  population  of  this  part  of  Yorkshire,  which  has 
Bradford  for  its  centre  and  metropolis. 

Keighley  is  in  process  of  transformation  from  a  popu- 
lous, old-fashioned  village,  into  a  still  more  populous 
and  flourishing  town.  It  is  evident  to  the  stranger,  that 
as  the  gable-ended  houses,  which  obtrude  themselves 
corner-wise  on  the  widening  street,  fall  vacant,  they 
are  pulled  down  to  allow  of  greater  space  for  traffic, 
and  a  more  modern  style  of  architecture.  The  quaint 
and  narrow  shop-windows  of  fifty  years  ago  are  giving 
way  to  large  panes  and  plate-glass.   Nearly  every  dwell- 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


347 


ing  seems  devoted  to  some  branch  of  commerce.  In 
passing  hastily  through  the  town,  one  hardly  perceives 
where  the  necessary  lawyer  and  doctor  can  live,  so  little 
appearance  is  there  of  any  dwellings  of  the  professional 
middle-class,  such  as  abound  in  our  old  cathedral  towns. 
In  fact,  nothing  can  be  more  opposed  than  the  state  of 
society,  the  modes  of  thinking,  the  standards  of  refer- 
ence on  all  points  of  morality,  manners,  and  even  poli- 
tics and  religion,  in  such  a  new  manufacturing  place  as 
Keighley  in  the  north,  and  any  stately,  sleepy,  pictur- 
esque cathedral  town  of  the  south.  Yet  the  aspect  of 
Keighley  promises  well  for  future  stateliness,  if  not 
picturesqueness.  Grey  stone  abounds;  and  the  rows  of 
houses  built  of  it  have  a  kind  of  solid  grandeur  connected 
with  their  uniform  and  enduring  lines.  The  frame- work 
of  the  doors,  and  the  lintels  of  the  windows,  even  in 
the  smallest  dwellings  are  made  of  blocks  of  stone. 
There  is  no  painted  wood  to  require  continual  beauti- 
fying, or  else  present  a  shabby  aspect;  and  the  stone  is 
kept  scrupulously  clean  by  the  notable  Yorkshire  wives. 
Such  glimpses  into  the  interior  as  a  passer-by  obtains, 
reveals  a  rough  abundance  of  the  means  of  living,  and 
diligent  and  active  habits  in  the  women.  But  the  voices 
of  the  people  are  hard,  and  their  tones  discordant,  prom- 
ising little  of  the  musical  taste  that  distinguishes  the 
district,  and  which  has  already  furnished  a  Carrodus 
to  the  musical  world.  The  names  over  the  shops  (of 
which  the  one  just  given  is  a  sample)  seem  strange  even 
to  an  inhabitant  of  the  neighboring  county,  and  have  a 
peculiar  smack  and  flavour  of  the  place. 

The  town  of  Keighley  never  quite  melts  into  country 
on  the  road  to  Haworth,  although  the  houses  become 
more  sparse  as  the  traveller  journeys  upwards  to  the 
grey  round  hills  that  seem  to  bound  his  journey  in  a 


348 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


westerly  direction.  First  come  some  villas;  just  suffi- 
ciently retired  from  the  road  to  show  that  they  can 
scarcely  belong  to  any  one  liable  to  be  summoned  in  a 
hurry,  at  a  call  of  suffering  or  danger,  from  his  com- 
fortable fire-side ;  the  lawyer,  the  doctor,  and  the  cler- 
gyman, live  at  hand,  and  hardly  in  the  suburbs,  with  a 
screen  of  shrubs  for  concealment. 

In  a  town  one  does  not  look  for  vivid  colouring: 
what  there  may  be  of  this  is  furnished  by  the  wares 
in  the  shops,  not  by  foliage  or  atmospheric  effects ;  but 
in  the  country  some  brilliancy  and  vividness  seems  to 
be  instinctively  expected,  and  there  is  consequently  a 
slight  feeling  of  disappointment  at  the  grey  neutral  tint 
of  every  object,  near  or  far  off,  on  the  way  from 
Keighley  to  Haworth.  The  distance  .is  about  four 
miles;  and,  as  I  have  said,  what  with  villas,  great 
worsted  factories,  rows  of  workmen 's  houses,  with  here 
and  there  an  old-fashioned  farm-house  and  outbuild- 
ings, it  can  hardly  be  called  " country"  any  part  of 
the  way.  For  two  miles  the  road  passes  over  tolerably 
level  ground,  distant  hills  on  the  left,  a  "beck"  flowing 
through  meadows  on  the  right,  and  furnishing  water 
power,  at  certain  points,  to  the  factories  built  on  its 
banks.  The  air  is  dim  and  lightless,  with  the  smoke 
from  all  these  habitations  and  places  of  business.  The 
soil  in  the  valley  (or  "bottoms,"  to  use  the  local  term) 
is  rich;  but,  as  the  road  begins  to  ascend,  the  vegeta- 
tion becomes  poorer;  it  does  not  flourish,  it  merely 
exists ;  and,  instead  of  trees,  there  are  only  bushes  and 
shrubs  about  the  dwellings.  Stone  dykes  are  every- 
where used  in  place  of  hedges;  and  what  crops  there 
are,  on  the  patches  of  arable  land,  consist  of  pale,  hun- 
gry-looking, grey-green  oats.  Right  before  the  travel- 
ler on  his  road  rises  Haworth  village ;  he  can  see  it  for 


LESSTKG'S  LAOCOON 


two  miles  before  he  arrives,  for  it  is  situated  on  the 
side  of  a  pretty  steep  hill,  with  a  back-ground  of  dun 
and  purple  moors,  rising  and  sweeping  away  yet  higher 
than  the  church,  which  is  built  at  the  very  summit  of 
the  long  narrow  street.  All  around  the  horizon  there 
is  this  same  line  of  sinuous,  wave-like  hills;  the  scoops 
into  which  they  fall  only  revealing  other  hills  beyondr 
of  similar  colour  and  shape,  crowned  with  wild,  bleak 
moors — grand,  from  the  ideas  of  solitude  and  loneli- 
ness which  they  suggest,  or  oppressive  from  the  feeling 
which  they  give  of  being  pent-up  by  some  monotonous 
and  illimitable  barrier,  according  to  the  mood  of  mind 
in  which  the  spectator  may  be. 

For  a  short  distance  the  road  appears  to  turn  away 
from  Haworth,  as  it  winds  round  the  base  of  the  shoulder 
of  a  hill;  but  then  it  crosses  a  bridge  over  the  "beck,'r 
and  the  ascent  through  the  village  begins.  The  flag- 
stones with  which  it  is  paved  are  placed  end-ways,  in 
order  to  give  a  better  hold  to  the  horses'  feet;  and, 
even  with  this  help,  they  seem  to  be  in  constant  danger 
of  slipping  backwards.  The  old  stone  houses  are  high 
compared  to  the  width  of  the  street,  which  makes  an 
abrupt  turn  before  reaching  the  level  ground  at  the 
head  of  the  village,  so  that  the  steep  aspect  of  the  place, 
in  one  part,  is  almost  like  that  of  a  wall.  But  this  sur- 
mounted, the  church  lies  a  little  off  the  main  road  on  the 
left;  a  hundred  yards,  or  so,  and  the  driver  relaxes 
his  care,  and  the  horse  breathes  more  easily,  as  they 
pass  into  the  quiet  little  by-street  that  leads  to  Haworth 
Parsonage.  The  churchyard  is  on  one  side  of  this  lane, 
the  school-house  and  the  sexton's  dwelling  (where  the 
curates  formerly  lodged)  on  the  other. 

The  parsonage  stands  at  right  angles  to  the  road, 
facing  down  upon  the  church ;  so  that,  in  fact,  parsonage* 


350 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


church,  and  belfried  school-house,  form  three  sides  of 
an  irregular  oblong,  of  which  the  fourth  is  open  to  the 
fields  and  moors  that  lie  beyond.  The  area  of  this 
oblong  is  filled  up  by  a  crowded  churchyard,  and  a 
small  garden  or  court  in  front  of  the  clergyman's  house. 
As  the  entrance  to  this  from  the  road  is  at  the  side, 
the  path  goes  round  the  corner  into  the  little  plot  of 
ground.  Underneath  the  windows  is  a  narrow  .flower- 
border,  carefully  tended  in  days  of  yore,  although  only 
the  most  hardy  plants  could  be  made  to  grow  there. 
"Within  the  stone  wall,  which  keeps  out  the  surrounding 
churchyard,  are  bushes  of  elder  and  lilac;  the  rest  of 
the  ground  is  occupied  by  a  square  grass-plot  and  a 
gravel  walk.  The  house  is  of  grey  stone,  two  stories 
high,  heavily  roofed  with  flags,  in  order  to  resist  the 
winds  that  might  strip  off  a  lighter  covering.  It  appears 
to  have  been  built  about  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  to 
consist  of  four  rooms  on  each  story ;  the  two  windows 
on  the  right  (as  the  visitor  stands  with  his  back  to  the 
church,  ready  to  enter  in  at  the  front  door)  belonging 
to  Mr.  Bronte's  study,  the  two  on  the  left  to  the  family 
sitting  room.  Everything  about  the  place  tells  of  the 
most  dainty  order,  the  most  exquisite  cleanliness.  The 
door-steps  are  spotless,  the  small  old-fashioned  window- 
panes  glitter  like  looking-glass.  Inside  and  outside  of 
that  house  cleanliness  goes  up  into  its  essence,  purity. — 
Mrs.  Gaskell,  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte,  chap.  1. 


Between  the  fair  boundaries  of  the  counties  of  Here- 
ford and  Worcester  rise  in  a  long  undulation  the  slop- 
ing pastures  of  the  Malvern  Hills.  Consulting  a  big 
red  book  on  the  castles  and  manors  of  England,  we 
found  Lockley  Park  to  be  seated  near  the  base  of  this 
grassy  range, — though  in  which  county  I  forget.  In 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


351 


the  pages  of  this  genial  volume,  Lockley  Park  and  its 
appurtenances  made  a  very  handsome  figure.  We  took 
up  our  abode  at  a  certain  little  wayside  inn,  at  which 
in  the  days  of  leisure  the  coach  must  have  stopped  for 
lunch,  and  burnished  pewters  of  rustic  ale  been  ten- 
derly exalted  to  "outsides"  athirst  with  breezy  pro- 
gression. Here  we  stopped,  for  sheer  admiration  of 
its  steep  thatched  roof,  its  latticed  windows,  and  its 
homely  porch.  We  allowed  a  couple  of  days  to  elapse 
in  vague,  undirected  strolls  and  sweet  sentimental  ob- 
servance of  the  land,  before  we  prepared  to  execute 
the  especial  purpose  of  our  journey.  This  admirable 
region  is  a.  compendium  of  the  general  physiognomy  of 
England.  The  noble  friendliness  of  the  scenery,  its 
subtle  old-friendliness,  the  magical  familiarity  of  mul- 
titudinous details,  appealed  to  us  at  every  step  and  at 
every  glance.  Deep  in  our  souls  a  natural  affection 
answered.  The  whole  land,  in  the  full,  warm  rains  of 
the  last  of  April,  had  burst  into  sudden  perfect  spring. 
The  dark  walls  of  the  hedgerows  had  turned  into 
blooming  screens;  the  sodden  verdure  of  lawn  and 
meadow  was  streaked  with  a  ranker  freshness.  We 
went  forth  without  loss  of  time  for  a  long  walk  on  the 
hills.  Reaching  their  summits,  you  find  half  England 
at  your  feet.  A  dozen  broad  counties,  within  the  vast 
range  of  your  vision,  commingle  their  green  exhalations. 
Closely  beneath  us  lay  the  dark,  rich  flats  of  hedgy 
Worcestershire  and  the  copse-checkered  slopes  of  roll- 
ing Hereford,  white  with  the  blossom  of  apples.  At 
widely  opposite  points  of  the  large  expanse  two  great 
cathedral  towers  rise  sharply,  taking  the  light,  from 
the  settled  shadow  of  their  circling  towns, — the  light, 
the  eneffable  English  light!  "Out  of  England,"  cried 
Searle,  * '  it 's  but  a  garish  world ! ' ' 


352 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


The  whole  vast  sweep  of  our  surrounding  prospect  lay 
answering  in  a  myriad  fleeting  shades  the  cloudy  process 
of  the  tremendous  sky.  The  English  heaven  is  a  fit 
antithesis  to  the  complex  English  earth.  We  possess  in 
America  the  infinite  beauty  of  the  blue;  England  pos- 
sesses the  splendor  of  combined  and  animated  clouds. 
Over  against  us,  from  our  station  on  the  hills,  we  saw 
them  piled  and  dissolved,  compacted  and  shifted,  blot- 
ting the  azure  with  sudden  rain  spots,  stretching,  breeze- 
fretted,  into  dappled  fields  of  gray,  bursting  into  a 
storm  of  light  or  melting  into  a  drizzle  of  silver.  We 
made  our  way  along  the  rounded  summits  of  these 
well-grazed  heights, — mild,  breezy  inland  downs, — and 
descended  through  long-drawn  slopes  of  fields,  green  to 
cottage  doors,  to  where  .a  rural  village  beckoned  us 
from  its  seat  among  the  meadows.  Close  beside  it,  I 
admit,  the  railway  shoots  fiercely  from  its  tunnel  in  the 
hills;  and  yet  there  broods  upon  this  charming  hamlet 
an  old-time  quietude  and  privacy,  which  seems  to  make 
it  a  violation  of  confidence  to  tell  its  name  so  far  away. 
We  struck  through  a  narrow  lane,  a  green  lane,  dim 
with  its  height  of  hedges ;  it  led  us  to  a  superb  old  farm- 
house, now  jostled  by  the  multiplied  lanes  and  roads 
which  have  curtailed  its  ancient  appanage.  It  stands 
in  stubborn  picturesqueness,  at  the  receipt  of  sad-eyed 
contemplation  and  the  suff ranee  of  ' '  sketches. ' '  I  doubt 
whether  out  of  Nuremburg — or  Pompeii ! — you  may  find 
so  forcible  an  image  of  the  domiciliary  genius  of  the 
past.  It  is  cruelly  complete ;  its  bended  beams  and 
joists,  beneath  the  burden  of  its  gables,  seem  to  ache 
and  groan  with  memories  and  regrets.  The  short,  low 
windows,  where  lead  and  glass  combine  in  equal  pro- 
portions to  hint  to  the  wondering  stranger  of  the 
mediaeval  gloom  within,   still  prefer  their  darksome 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


353 


office  to  the  grace  of  modern  day.  Such  an  old  house 
fills  an  American  with  an  indefinable  feeling  of  respect. 
So  propped  and  patched  and  tinkered  with  clumsy 
tenderness,  clustered  so  richly  about  its  central  English 
sturdiness,  its  oaken  vertebrations,  so  humanized  with 
ages  of  use  and  touches  of  beneficent  affection,  it 
seemed  to  offer  to  our  grateful  eyes  a  small,  rude 
synthesis  of  the  great  English  social  order.  Passing 
out  upon  the  highroad  we  came  to  the  common  brows- 
ing-patch, the  " village  green"  of  the  tales  of  our 
youth.  Nothing  was  wanting;  the  shaggy,  mouse- 
colored  donkey,  nosing  the  turf  with  his  mild  and  huge 
proboscis,  the  geese,  the  old  woman, — the  old  woman, 
in  person,  with  her  red  cloak  and  her  black  bonnet, 
frilled  about  the  face  and  double-frilled  beside  her 
decent,  placid  cheeks, — the  towering  ploughman  with 
his  white  smock-frock,  puckered  on  chest  and  back, 
his  short  corduroys,  his  mighty  calves,  his .  big,  red, 
rural  face.  We  greeted  these  things  as  children  greet 
the  loved  pictures  in  a  story-book,  lost  and  mourned 
and  found  again.  It  was  marvellous  how  well  we 
knew  them.  Beside  the  road  we  saw  a  ploughboy 
straddle,  whistling,  on  a  stile.  Gainsborough  might 
have  painted  him.  Beyond  the  stile,  across  the  level 
velvet  of  a  meadow,  a  footpath  lay,  like  a  thread  of 
darker  woof.  We  followed  it  from  field  to  field  and! 
from  stile  to  stile.  It  was  the  way  to  church.  At  the 
church  we  finally  arrived,  lost  in  its  rock-haunted 
churchyard,  hidden  from  the  work-day  world  by  the 
broad  stillness  of  pastures, — a  gray,  gray  tower,  a 
huge  black  yew,  a  cluster  of  village  graves,  with 
crooked  headstones,  in  grassy,  low  relief.  The  whole 
scene  was  deeply  ecclesiastical.  My  companion  was 
overcome. 


354 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


"You  must  bury  me  here,"  he  cried.  "It's  the  first 
church  I  have  seen  in  my  life.  How  it  makes  a  Sunday 
where  it  stands  ! ' ' 

The  next  day  we  saw  a  church  of  statelier  propor- 
tions. We  walked  over  to  Worcester,  through  such  a 
mist  of  local  color  that  I  felt  like  one  of  Smoilet's 
pedestrian  heroes,  faring  tavernward  for  a  night  of 
adventures.  As  we  neared  the  provincial  city  we  saw 
the  steepled  mass  of  the  cathedral,  long  and  high,  rise 
far  into  the  cloud-freckled  blue.  And  as  we  came 
nearer  still,  we  stopped  on  the  bridge  and  viewed  the 
solid  minster  reflected  in  the  yellow  Severn.  And 
going  farther  yet  we  entered  the  town, — where  surely 
Miss  Austin's  heroines,  in  chariots  and  curricles,  must 
often  have  come  shopping  for  swan's-down  boas  and 
high  lace  mittens; — we  lounged  about  the  gentle  close 
and  gazed  insatiably  at  that  most  soul-soothing  sight, 
the  waning,  wasting  afternoon  light,  the  visible  ether 
Avhich  feels  the  voices  of  the  chimes,  far  aloft  on  the 
perpendicular  field  of  the  cathedral  tower;  saw  it 
linger  and  nestle  and  abide,  as  it  loves  to  do  on  all 
bold  architectural  spaces,  converting  them  graciously 
into  registers  and  witnesses  of  nature ;  tasted,  too,  as 
deeply  of  the  peculiar  stillness  of  this  clerical  precinct ; 
saw  a  rosy  English  lad  come  forth  and  lock  the  door 
of  the  old  foundation  school,  which  marries  its  hoary 
basement  to  the  soaring  Gothic  of  the  church,  and 
carry  his  big  responsible  key  into  one  of  the  quiet 
canonical  houses;  and  then  stood  musing  together  on 
the  effect  on  one's  mind  of  having  in  one's  boyhood 
haunted  such  cathedral  shades  as  a  King's  scholar,  and 
yet  kept  ruddy  with  much  cricket  in  misty  meadows 
by  the  Severn.  On  the  third  morning  we  betook  our- 
selves to  Lockley  Park,  having  learned  that  the  greater 


LESSING-'S  LAOCOON 


355 


part  of  it  was  open  to  visitors,  and  that,  indeed,  on  ap- 
plication, the  house  was  occasionally  shown. 

Within  the  broad  enclosure  many  a  declining  spur 
of  the  great  hills  melted  into  parklike  slopes  and  dells. 
A  long  avenue  wound  and  circled  from  the  outermost 
gate  through  an  untrimmed  woodland,  whence  you 
glanced  at  further  slopes  and  glades  and  copses  and 
bosky  recesses, — at  everything  except  the  limits  of  the 
place.  It  was  as  free  and  wild  and  untended  as  the 
villa  of  an  Italian  prince ;  and  I  have  never  seen  the 
stern  English  fact  of  property  put  on  such  an  air  of 
innocence.  .The  weather  had  just  become  perfect;  it 
was  one  of  the  dozen  exquisite  days  of  the  English 
year, — days  stamped  with  a  refinement  of  purity  un- 
known in  more  liberal  climes.  It  was  as  if  the  mellow 
brightness,  as  tender  as  that  of  the  primroses  which 
starred  the  dark  waysides  like  petals  wind-scattered 
over  beds  of  moss,  had  been  meted  out  to  us  by  the 
cubic  foot, — tempered,  refined,  recorded!  From  this 
external  region  we  passed  into  the  heart  of  the  park, 
through  a  second  lodge-gate,  with  weather-worn  gild- 
ing on  its  twisted  bars,  to  the  smooth  slopes  where  the 
great  trees  stood  singly  and  the  tame  deer  browsed 
along  the  bed  of  a  woodland  stream.  Hence,  before  us, 
we  perceived  the  dark  Elizabethan  manor  among  its 
blooming  parterres  and  terraces. 

"Here  you  can  wander  all  day,"  I  said  to  Searle, 
"like  a  proscribed  and  exiled  prince,  hovering  about 
the  dominion  of  the  usurper."  (This  Mr.  Searle  has  a 
slight  hereditary  claim  to  this  English  estate.) 

"To  think,"  he  answered,  "of  people  having  en- 
joyed this  all  these  years!  I  know  what  I  am, — what 
might  I  have  been?   What  does  all  this  make  of  you?" 

"That  it  makes  you  happy,"  I  said,  "I  should  hesi- 


356 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


tate  to  believe.  But  it's  hard  to  suppose  that  such  a 
place  has  not  some  beneficent  action  of  its  own." 

"What  a  perfect  scene  and  background  it  forms!" 
Searle  went  on.  "What  legends,  what  histories  it 
knows !  My  heart  is  breaking  with  unutterable  visions. 
There's  Tennyson's  Talking  Oak.  What  summer  days 
one  could  spend  here !  How  I  could  lounge  my  bit  of 
life  away  on  this  shady  stretch  of  turf!  Haven't  I 
some  maiden-cousin  in  yon  moated  grange  who  would 
give  me  kind  leave?"  And  then  turning  almost 
fiercely  upon  me  :  -  Why  did  you  bring  me  here  ?  Why 
did  you  drag  me  into  this  torment  of  vain  regrets?" — 
Henry  James,  A  Passionate  Pilgrim. 


Mr.  Henry  laid  down  his  cards.  He  rose  to  his  feet 
very  softly,  and  seemed  all  the  while  like  a  person  in 
deep  thought.  "You  coward!"  he  said  gently,  as  if  to 
himself.  And  then,  with  neither  hurry  nor  any  par- 
ticular violence,  he  struck  the  master  in  the  mouth. 

The  master  sprung  to  his  feet  like  one  transfigured. 
I  had  never  seen  the  man  so  beautiful.  "A  blow!" 
he  cried.  "I  would  not  take  a  blow  from  God 
Almighty. ' ' 

"Lower  your  voice,"  said  Mr.  Henry.  "Do  you  wish 
my  father  to  interfere  for  you  again  ? ' ' 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen,"  I  cried,  and  sought  to 
come  between  them. 

The  master  caught  me  by  the  shoulder,  held  me  at 
arm's  length,  and  still  addressing  his  brother:  "Do 
you  know  what  this  means?"  said  he. 

"It  was  the  most  deliberate  act  of  my  life,"  says 
Mr.  Henry. 

"I  must  have  blood,  I  must  have  blood  for  this," 
says  the  master. 


LESSI'NG'S  LAOCOON 


357 


"Please  God  it  shall  be  yours,"  said  Mr.  Henry;  and 
he  went  to  the  wall  and  took  down  a  pair  of  swords 
that  hung  there  with  others,  naked.  These  he  presented 
to  the  master  by  the  points.  "Mackellar  shall  see  us 
play  fair,"  said  Mr.  Henry.   "I  think  it  very  needful." 

"You  need  insult  me  no  more,"  said  the  master, 
taking  one  of  the  swords  at  random.  "I  have  hated 
you  all  my  life." 

"My  father  has  but  newly  gone  to  bed,"  said  Mr. 
Henry.   "We  must  go  somewhere  forth  of  the  house." 

"There  is  an  excellent  place  in  the  long  shrubbery," 
said  the  master. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  I,  "shame  upon  you  both!  Sons 
of  the  same  mother,  would  you  turn  against  the  life 
she  gave  you?" 

"Even  so,  Mackellar,"  said  Mr.  Henry  with  the  same 
perfect  quietude  of  manner  he  had  shown  throughout. 

"It  is  what  I  will  prevent,"  said  I. 

And  now  here  is  a  blot  upon  my  life.  At  these  words 
of  mine  the  master  turned  his  blade  against  my  bosom ; 
I  saw  the  light  run  along  the  steel ;  and  I  threw  up  my 
arms  and  fell  to  my  knees  before  him  on  the  floor. 
""No,  no,"  I  cried,  like  a  baby. 

"We  shall  have  no  more  trouble  with  him,"  said  the 
master.  "It  is  a  good  thing  to  have  a  coward  in  the 
house." 

"We  must  have  light,"  said  Mr.  Henry,  as  though 
there  had  been  no  interruption.  "This  trembler  can 
bring  a  pair  of  candles,"  said  the  master. 

To  my  shame  be  it  said,  I  was  so  blinded  with  the 
flashing  of  that  bare  sword  that  I  volunteered  to  bring 
'■8,  lantern. 

"¥7e  do  not  need  a  1-1-lantern, "  said  the  master, 
mocking  me.    "There  is  no  breath  of  air.    Come,  get 


358 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


to  your  feet,  take  a  pair  of  lights,  and  go  before.  I  am 
close  behind  with  this — "  making  the  blade  glitter  as 
he  spoke. 

I  took  up  the  candlesticks  and  went  before  them, 
steps  that  I  would  give  my  hand  to  recall;  but  a 
coward  is  a  slave  at  the  best;  and  even  as  I  went,  my 
teeth  smote  each  other  in  my  mouth.  It  was  as  he  had 
said,  there  was  no  breath  stirring ;  a  windless  stricture 
of  frost  had  bound  the  air;  and  as  we  went  forth  in 
the  shine  of  the  candles  the  blackness  was  like  a  roof 
over  our  heads.  Never  a  word  was  said,  there  was 
never  a  sound  but  the  creaking  of  our  steps  along  the 
frozen  path.  The  cold  of  the  night  fell  about  me  like 
a  bucket  of  water;  I  shook  as  I  went  with  more  than 
terror;  but  my  companions,  bareheaded  like  myself r 
and  fresh  from  the  warm  hall,  appeared  not  even  con- 
scious of  the  change. 

"Here  is  the  place,"  said  the  master.  "Set  down 
the  candles." 

I  did  as  he  bade  me,  and  presently  the  flames  went 
up  as  steady  as  in  a  chamber  in  the  midst  of  the  frosted 
trees,  and  I  beheld  these  two  brothers  take  their 
places. 

"The  light  is  something  in  my  eyes,"  said  the 
master. 

"I  will  give  you  every  advantage,"  replied  Mr.. 
Henry,  shifting  his  ground,  "for  I  think  you  are  about 
to  die."  He  spoke  rather  sadly  than  otherwise,  yet 
there  was  a  ring  in  his  voice. 

"Henry  Durie,"  said  the  master,  "two  words  before 
I  begin.  You  are  a  fencer,  you  can  hold  a  foil;  you 
little  know  what  a  change  it  makes  to  hold  a  sword  f 
And  by  that  I  know  you  are  to  fall.  But  see  how 
strong  is  my  situation!    If  you  fall,  I  shift  out  of  this 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


359 


country  to  where  my  money  is  before  me.  If  I  fall, 
where  are  you?  My  father,  your  wife  who  is  in  love 
with  me — as  you  very  well  know — your  child  even  who 
prefers  me  to  yourself :  how  will  these  avenge  me  !  Had 
you  thought  of  that,  dear  Henry?"  He  looked  at  his 
brother  with  a  smile ;  then  made  a  fencing-room  salute. 

Never  a  word  said  Mr.  Henry,  but  saluted  too,  and 
the  swords  rang  together. 

I  am  no  judge  of  the  play,  but  my  head  besides  was 
gone  with  cold  and  fear  and  horror;  but  it  seems  that 
Mr.  Henry  took  and  kept  the  upper  hand  from  the  en- 
gagement, crowding  in  upon  his  foe  with  a  contained 
and  glowing  fury.  Nearer  and  nearer  he  crept  upon 
the  man  till,  of  a  sudden,  the  master  leaped  back  with 
a  little  sobbing  oath;  and  I  believe  the  movement 
brought  the  light  once  more  against  his  eyes.  To  it 
they  went  again,  on  the  fresh  ground:  but  now 
methought  closer,  Mr.  Henry  pressing  more  outrageous- 
ly, the  master  beyond  doubt  with  shaken  confidence. 
For  it  is  beyond  doubt  he  now  recognized  himself  for 
lost,  and  had  some  taste  of  the  cold  agony  of  fear ;  or 
he  had  never  attempted  the  foul  stroke.  I  cannot  say 
I  followed  it,  my  untrained  eye  was  never  quick 
enough  to  seize  details,  but  it  appears  he  caught  his 
brother's  blade  with  his  left  hand,  a  practice  not  per- 
mitted. Certainly  Mr.  Henry  only  saved  himself  by 
leaping  on  one  side ;  as  certainly  the  master,  lunging  in 
the  air,  stumbled  on  his  knee,  and  before  he  could 
move  the  sword  was  through  his  body. 

I  cried  out  with  a  stifled  scream,  and  ran  in ;  but  the 
body  was  already  fallen  to  the  ground,  where  it 
writhed  a  moment  like  a  trodden  worm,  and  then  lay 
motionless. — Stevenson,  The  Master  of  Ballantrae. 


360 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


[Thackeray.]  I  believe  you  have  never  seen 
Thackeray.  He  has  the  appearance  of  a  colossal  infant, 
smooth,  white  shiny,  ringlet  hair,  flaxen,  alas  with  ad- 
vancing years,  a  roundish  face  with  a  little  dab  of  a 
nose  upon  which  it  is  a  perfect  wonder  how  he  keeps  his 
spectacles,  a  sweet  but  rather  piping  voice  with  some- 
thing of  a  childish  treble  about  it,  and  a  very  tall, 
slightly  stooping  figure — such  are  the  characteristics  of 
the  "great  snob"  of  England. — Motley,  Letters,  Vol.  1. 


[De  Quincey.]  I  had  formed  to  myself  the  idea  of  a 
tall,  thin,  pale,  gentlemanly-looking,  courtier-like  man; 
but  I  met  a  short,  sallow-looking  person,  of  a  peculiar 
cast  of  countenance,  and  apparently  much  an  invalid. 
His  demeanor  was  very  gentle,  modest,  and  unassum- 
ing; and  his  conversation  fully  came  up  to  the  ideal  I 
had  formed  of  what  would  be  that  of  the  writer  of 
those  articles.  He  seemed  well  acquainted  with  many 
of  the  literary  men  of  the  present  day. — Hogg, 
De  Quincey  and  His  Friends. 

His  appearance  has  often  been  described,  but  gen- 
erally, I  think,  with  a  touch  of  caricature.  He  was  a 
very  little  man  (about  5  feet,  3  or  4  inches)  ;  his  coun- 
tenance the  most  remarkable  for  its  intellectual  attrac- 
tiveness that  I  have  ever  seen.  His  features,  though 
not  regular,  were  aristocratically  fine,  and  an  air  of 
delicate  breeding  pervaded  the  face.  His  forehead 
was  unusually  high,  square  and  compact.  At  first 
sight  his  face  appeared  boyishly  fresh  and  smooth, 
with  a  sort  of  hectic  glow  upon  it  that  contrasted  re- 
markably with  the  evident  appearances  of  age  in  the 
grizzled  hair  and  dim-looking  eyes.  The  flush  or 
bloom  on  the  cheeks  was,  I  have  no  doubt,  an  effect 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


361 


of  his  constant  use  of  opium ;  and  the  apparent  smooth- 
ness of  the  face  disappeared  upon  examination.  Mr. 
De  Quincey 's  eyes  were  dark  in  colour,  the  iris  large, 
but  with  a  strange  flatness  and  dimness  of  aspect, 
which,  however,  did  not  indicate  any  deficiency  of 
sight:  it  was  often  difficult  to  catch  his  eyes  from 
the  hazy  expression  diffused  over  them.  They  had 
the  dreamy  look  often  observable  in  students  or  in 
short-sighted  people.— Hogg,  De  Quincey  and  His 
Friends. 

No  one  who  ever  met  De  Quincey  could  fail  to  be 
struck,  after  even  the  briefest  intercourse,  with  the 
extreme  sweetness  and  courtesy  of  his  manners.  He 
had  the  air  of  old-fashioned  good  manners  of  the  high- 
est kind;  natural  and  studied  politeness,  free  from  the 
slightest  ostentation  or  parade;  a  delicacy,  gentleness, 
and  elegance  of  demeanor  that  at  once  conciliated  and 
charmed.  .  .  In  any  attempt  to  transcribe  or  rather 
describe  his  conversation,  the  chief  difficulty  would  be 
to  fix — perhaps  to  account  for — a  certain  evanescent 
charm  which  every  one  felt,  but  which  can  only  be 
remembered,  not  transmitted.  It  was  in  fact  an  ex- 
quisite and  transient  emanation  from  the  intellectual 
and  moral  nature  of  the  man,  enhanced  in  its  effect  by 
the  rare  beauty  of  his  language,  and  the  perfectly  ele- 
gant construction  of  every  phrase  and  sentence  he 
uttered. — Hogg,  ditto. 


[Coleridge.]  The  good  man,  he  was  now  getting  old, 
towards  sixty,  perhaps ;  and  gave  you  the  idea  of  a  life 
that  had  been  full  of  sufferings;  a  life  heavy-laden, 
half-vanquished,  still  swimming  painfully  in  seas  of 
manifold  physical  and  other  bewilderment.  Brow  and 
head  were  round,  and  of  massive  weight,  but  the  face 


362 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


was  flabby  and  irresolute.  The  deep  eyes,  of  a  light 
hazel,  were  as  full  of  sorrow  as  of  inspiration;  con- 
fused pain  looked  mildly  from  them,  as  in  a  kind  of 
mild  astonishment.  The  whole  figure  and  air,  good  and 
amiable  otherwise,  might  be  called  flabby  and  irreso- 
lute ;  expressive  of  weakness  under  possibility  of 
strength.  He  hung  loosely  on  his  limbs,  with  knees 
bent,  and.  stooping  attitude;  in  walking,  he  rather 
shuffled  than  decisively  stept;  and  a  lady  once 
remarked,  he  never  could  fix  which  side  of  the  garden 
walk  would  suit  him  best,  but  continually  shifted,  in 
cork-screw  fashion,  and  kept  trying  both.  A  heavy- 
laden,  high-aspiring  and  surely  much-suffering  man. 
His  voice,  naturally  soft  and  good,  had  contracted  itself 
into  a  plaintive  snuffle  and  singsong;  he  spoke  as  if 
preaching, — you  would  have  said,  preaching  earnestly 
and  also  hopelessly  the  weightiest  things.  I  still  recol- 
lect his  "object"  and  "subject,"  terms  of  continual  re- 
currence in  the  Kantean  province ;  and  how  he  sung  and 
snuffled  them  into  "om-m-m-ject"  and  "sum-m-m- 
ject,"  with  a  kind  of  solemn  shake  or  quaver,  as  he 
rolled  along.  No  talk,  in  this  century  or  in  any  other, 
could  be  more  surprising.    .    .  . 

Nothing  could  be  more  copious  than  his  talk;  and 
furthermore  it  was  always,  virtually  or  literally,  of  the 
nature  of  a  monologue ;  suffering  no  interruption,  how- 
ever reverent;  hastily  putting  aside  all  foreign  addi- 
tions, annotations,  or  most  ingenuous  desires  for  eluci- 
dation, as  well-meant  superfluities  which  would  never 
do.  Besides,  it  was  talk  not  flowing  anywhither  like 
a  river,  but  spreading  everywhither  in  inextricable  cur- 
rents and  regurgitations  like  a  lake  or  sea;  terribly 
deficient  in  definite  goal  or  aim,  nay,  often  in  logical 
intelligibility;  ivhat  you  were  to  believe  or  do,  on  any 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


earthly  or  heavenly  thing,  obstinately  refusing  to 
appear  from  it.  So  that,  most  times,  you  felt  logically 
lost ;  swamped  near  to  drowning  in  this  tide  of  ingenious 
vocables,  spreading  out  boundless  as  if  to  submerge  the 
world. 

To  sit  as  a  passive  bucket  and  be  pumped  into, 
whether  you  consent  or  not,  can  in  the  long-run  be 
exhilarating  to  no  creature;  how  eloquent  soever  the 
flood  of  utterance  that  is  descending.  But  if  it  be 
withal  a  confused,  unintelligible  flood  of  utterance, 
threatening  to  submerge  all  known  landmarks  of 
thought,  and  drown  the  world  and  you !  I  have  heard 
Coleridge  talk,  with  eager  musical  energy,  two  stricken 
hours,  his  face  radiant  and  moist,  and  communicate  no 
meaning  whatsoever  to  any  individual  of  his  hearers, — 
certain  of  whom,  I  for  one,  still  kept  eagerly  listening 
in  hope ;  the  most  had  long  before  given  up,  and  formed 
(if  the  room  were  large  enough)  secondary  humming 
groups  of  their  own.  He  began  anywhere:  you  put 
some  question  to  him,  made  some  suggestive  observa- 
tion: instead  of  answering  this,  or  decidedly  settings 
out  toward  answer  of  it,  he  would  accumulate  formi- 
dable apparatus,  logical  swim-bladders,  transcendental 
life-preservers  and  other  precautionary  and  vehicula- 
tory  gear,  for  setting  out ;  perhaps  did  at  last  get  under 
way, — but  was  swiftly  solicited,  turned  aside  by  a 
glance  of  some  radiant  new  game  on  this  hand  or  that, 
into  new  courses;  and  ever  into  new;  and  before  long 
into  all  the  Universe,  where  it  was  uncertain  what 
game  you  would  catch,  or  whether  any. 

His  talk,  also,  was  distinguished,  like  himself,  by 
irresolution :  it  disliked  to  be  troubled  with  conditions, 
abstinences,  definite  fulfilments; — loved  to  wander  at 
its  own  sweet  will,  and  make  its  auditor  and  his  claims 


364 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


and  humble  wishes  a  mere  passive  bucket  for  itself! 
He  had  knowledge  about  many  things  and  topics,  much 
•curious  reading;  but  generally  all  topics  led  him,  after 
a  pass  or  two,  into  the  high  seas  of  theosophic  phil- 
osophy, the  hazy  infinitude  of  Kantean  transcendental- 
ism, with  its  ''sum-m-m-m-jects"  and  ''om-m-m-jects." 
'Sad  enough;  for  with  such  indolent  impatience  of  the 
claims  and  ignorance  of  others,  he  had  not  the  least 
talent  for  explaining  this  or  anything  unknown  to 
them ;  and  you  swam  and  fluttered  in  the  mistiest  wide 
unintelligible  deluge  of  things,  for  most  part  in  a 
rather  profitless,  uncomfortable  manner. 

Glorious  islets,  too,  I  have  seen  rise  out  of  the  haze ; 
out  they  were  few,  and  soon  swallowed  in  the  general 
•element  again.  Balmy  sunny  islets,  islets  of  the  blest 
and  the  intelligible : — on  which  occasions  those  second- 
ary humming  groups  would  all  cease  humming,  and 
hang  breathless  upon  the  eloquent  words ;  till  once  your 
islet  got  wrapt  in  the  mist  again,  and  they  would 
recommence  humming.  Eloquent  artistically  expres- 
sive words  you  always  had;  piercing  radiances  of  a 
most  subtle  insight  came  at  intervals;  tones  of  noble 
pious  sympathy,  recognizable  as  pious  though  strangely 
coloured,  were  never  wanting  long ;  but  in  general  you 
could  not  call  this  aimless,  cloudcapped,  cloudbased, 
lawlessly  meandering  human  discourse  of  reason  by  the 
name  of  ' '  excellent  talk, ' 9  but  only  of  ' '  surprising ; ' '  and 
were  reminded  bitterly  of  Hazlitt 's  account  of  it : 
""Excellent  talker,  very, — if  you  let  him  start  from  no 
premises  and  come  to  no  conclusion."  Coleridge  was 
not  without  what  talkers  call  wit,  and  there  were 
touches  of  prickly  sarcasm  in  him,  contemptuous 
enough  of  the  world  and  its  idols  and  popular  digni- 
taries; he  had  traits  even  of  poetic  humour:  but  in 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


365 


general  he  seemed  deficient  in  laughter;  or  indeed,  in 
sympathy  for  concrete  human  things  either  on  the 
sunny  or  on  the  stormy  side.  One  right  peal  of  con- 
crete laughter  at  some  convicted  flesh-and-blood  ab- 
surdity, one  burst  of  noble  indignation  at  some  injus- 
tice or  depravity,  rubbing  elbows  with  us  on  this  solid 
Earth,  how  strange  would  it  have  been  in  that  Kantean 
haze-world,  and  how  infinitely  cheering  amid  its  vacant 
air-castles  and  dim-melting  ghosts  of  defunct  bodies 
and  of  unborn  ones.  The  moaning  singsong  of  that 
theosophico-metaphysical  monotony  left  on  you,  at  last, 
a  very  dreary  feeling. — Carlyle,  Life  of  John  Sterling y 
Ch.  VII T. 

Along  the  road  walked  an  old  man.  He  was  white- 
headed  as  a  mountain,  bowed  in  his  shoulders,  and 
faded  in  general  aspect.  He  wore  a  glazed  hat,  an 
ancient  boat-cloak,  and  shoes;  his  brass  buttons  bear- 
ing an  anchor  upon  their  face.  In  his  hand  was  a  sil- 
ver-headed walking-stick,  which  he  used  as  a  veritable 
third  leg,  perseveringly  dotting  the  ground  with  its 
point  at  every  few  inches  interval.  One  would  have 
said  that  he  had  been,  in  his  day,  a  naval  officer  of 
some  sort  or  other. 

Before  him  stretched  the  long,  laborious  road,  dry, 
empty,  and  white.  It  was  quite  open  to  the  heath  on 
each  side,  and  bisected  that  vast  dark  surface  like  the 
parting-line  on  a  head  of  black  hair,  diminishing  and 
bending  away  on  the  furtherest  horizon. —  Hardy, 
Return  of  the  Native. 


Mrs.  Emerson,  (whose  quaint,  sweet  face,  and  sim- 
ple, old-fashioned  attire  suggested  to  one  lady  that 
"she  might  have  just  stepped  off  the  Mayflower,") 


366 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


bustled  around,  shaking  hands  and  arranging  chairs 
for  the  guests. — R.  W.  Emerson,  Ireland. 

[Emerson.]  To  sum  up  briefly  what  would,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  be  the  text  to  be  unfolded  in  his  biography, 
he  was  a  man  of  excellent  common  sense,  with  a  genius 
so  uncommon  that  he  seemed  like  an  exotic  transplanted 
from  some  angelic  nursery.  His  character  was  so  blame- 
less, so  beautiful,  that  it  was  rather  a  standard  to  judge 
others  by  than  to  find  a  place  for  on  the  scale  of  com- 
parison. Looking  at  life  with  the  profoundest  sense  of 
its  infinite  significance,  he  was  yet  a  cheerful  optimist, 
almost  too  hopeful,  peeping  into  every  cradle  to  see  if 
it  did  not  hold  a  babe  with  the  halo  of  a  new  Messiah 
about  it. — Holmes,  quoted  by  Alex.  Ireland  in  his  sketch 
of  Emerson. 

[Dickens.]  Let  me  speak  today  of  the  younger 
Dickens.  How  well  I  recall  the  bleak  winter  evening 
in  1842  when  I  first  saw  the  handsome,  glowing  face  of 
the  young  man  who  was  even  then  famous  over  half  the 
globe !  He  came  bounding  into  the  Tremont  House,  fresh 
from  the  steamer  that  had  brought  him  to  our  shores, 
and  his  cheery  voice  rang  through  the  hall,  as  he  gave 
a  quick  glance  at  the  new  scenes  opening  upon  him  in 
a  strange  land  on  first  arriving  at  a  Transatlantic  hotel. 
'  1  Here  we  are ! "  he  shouted,  as  the  lights  burst  upon 
the  merry  party  just  entering  the  house,  and  several 
gentlemen  came  forward  to  greet  him.  Oh,  how  happy 
and  buoyant  he  was  then!  Young,  handsome,  almost 
worshipped  for  his  genius,  belted  round  by  such  troops 
of  friends  as  rarely  ever  man  had,  coming  to  a  new 
country  to  make  new  conquests  of  fame  and  honor, — 
surely  it  was  a  sight  long  to  be  remembered  and  never 
entirely  to  be  forgotten.    .    .    .    You  ask  me  what  was 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


367 


his  appearance  as  he  ran,  or  rather  flew,  up  the  steps  of 
the  hotel,  and  sprang  into  the  hall.  He  seemed  all  on 
fire  with  curiosity,  and  alive  as  I  never  saw  mortal  be- 
fore. From  top  to  toe  every  fibre  of  his  body  was  unre- 
strained and  alert.  What  vigor,  what  keenness,  what 
freshness  of  spirit,  possessed  him!  He  laughed  all  over 
and  did  not  care  who  heard  him!  He  seemed  like  the 
Emperor  of  Cheerfulness  on  a  cruise  of  pleasure,  deter- 
mined to  conquer  a  realm  or  two  of  fun  every  hour  of 
his  overflowing  existence. — J.  T.  Fields,  Yesterdays  with 
Authors. 

[Dickens.]  Very  different  was  his  face  in  those  days 
from  that  which  photography  has  made  familiar  to  the 
present  generation.  A  look  of  youthfulness  first  at- 
tracted you,  and  then  a  candor  and  openness  of  expres- 
sion which  made  you  sure  of  the  qualities  within.  The 
features  were  very  good.  He  had  a  capital  forehead,  a 
firm  nose  with  full  wide  nostril,  eyes  wonderfully  beam- 
ing with  intellect  and  running  over  with  humor  and 
cheerfulness,  and  a  rather  prominent  mouth  strongly 
marked  with  sensibility.  The  head  was  altogether  well 
formed  and  symmetrical,  and  the  air  and  carriage  of  it 
were  extremely  spirited.  The  hair  so  scant  and  grizzled 
in  later  days  was  then  of  a  rich  brown  and  most  luxuri- 
ant abundance,  and  the  bearded  face  of  his  last  two 
decades  had  hardly  a  vestige  of  hair  or  whisker;  but 
there  was  that  in  the  face  as  I  first  recollect  it  which 
no  time  could  change,  and  which  remained  implanted 
on  it  unalterably  to  the  last.  This  was  the  quickness, 
keenness,  and  practical  power,  the  eager,  restless,  ener- 
getic outlook  on  each  several  feature,  that  seemed  to 
tell  so  little  of  a  student  or  writer  of  books,  and  so 
much  of  a  man  of  action  and  business  in  the  world. 


368 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Light  and  motion  flashed  from  every  part  of  it.  It  ivas 
as  if  made  of  steel,  was  said  of  it. — Forster,  Life  of 
Dickens,  vol.  1. 

[Sterling.]  It  was  on  this  his  February  expedition 
to  London  that  I  first  saw  Sterling.  .  .  .  A  loose, 
careless-looking,  thin  figure,  in  careless  dim  costume,  sat 
in  a  lounging  posture,  carelessly  and  copiously  talking.  I 
was  struck  with  the  kindly  but  restless  swift-glancing 
eyes,  which  looked  as  if  the  spirits  were  all  out  coursing 
like  a  pack  of  merry  eager  beagles,  beating  every  bush. 
The  brow,  rather  sloping  in  form,  was  not  of  imposing 
character,  though  again  the  head  was  longish,  which  is 
always  the  best  sign  of  intellect;  the  physiognomy  in 
general  indicated  animation  rather  than  strength. — 
Carlyle,  Life  of  Sterling. 


Dr.  Johnson  was  announced.  He  is,  indeed,  very  ill- 
favored;  is  tall  and  stout;  but  stoops  terribly;  he  is 
almost  bent  double.  His  mouth  is  almost  [constantly 
opening  and  shutting],  as  if  he  were  chewing.  He  has 
a  strange  method  of  frequently  twirling  his  fingers,  and 
twisting  his  hands.  His  body  is  in  continual  agitation, 
see-sawing  up  and  down;  his  feet  are  never  a  moment 
quiet;  and,  in  short,  his  whole  person  is  in  perpetual 
motion.  His  dress,  too,  considering  the  times,  and  that 
he  had  meant  to  put  on  his  best-becomes,  being  engaged 
to  dine  in  a  large  company,  was  as  much  out  of  the 
common  road  as  his  figure;  he  had  a  large  wig,  snuff- 
coloured  coat,  and  gold  buttons,  but  no  ruffles  to  his 
shirt,  [doughty  fists,  and  black  worsted  stockings] .  He 
is  shockingly  near-sighted,  and  did  not,  till  she  held 
out  her  hand  to  him,  even  know  Mrs.  Thrale.  He  poked 
his  nose  over  the  keys  of  the  harpsichord,  till  the  duet 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


369 


was  finished,  and  then  my  father  introduced  Hetty  to 
him.  .  .  .  His  attention,  however,  was  not  to  be 
diverted  five  minutes  from  the  books,  as  we  were  in  the 
library;  he  pored  over  them,  [shelf  by  shelf],  almost 
touching  the  backs  of  them  with  his  eye-lashes,  as  he 
read  their  titles.  At  last,  having  fixed  upon  one,  he 
began,  without  further  ceremony,  to  read  [to  himself], 
all  the  time  standing  at  a  distance  from  the  company. 
We  were  [all]  very  much  provoked,  as  we  perfectly 
languished  to  hear  him  talk ;  but  it  seems  he  is  the  most 
silent  creature,  when  not  particularly  drawn  out,  in 
the  world. — Early  Diary  of  Frances  Burney,  vol.  II. 

Johnson  grown  old,  Johnson  in  the  fulness  of  his  fame 
and  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  competent  fortune,  is  better 
known  to  us  than  any  other  man  in  history.  Everything 
about  him,  his  coat,  his  wig,  his  figure,  his  face,  his 
scrofula,  his  St.  Vitus 's  dance,  his  rolling  walk,  his 
blinking  eye,  the  outward  signs  which  too  clearly  marked 
his  approbation  of  his  dinner,  his  insatiable  appetite  for 
fish-sauce  and  veal-pie  with  plums,  his  inextinguishable 
thirst  for  tea,  his  trick  of  touching  the  posts  as  he 
walked,  his  mysterious  practice  of  treasuring  up  scraps 
of  orange-peel;  his  morning  slumbers,  his  midnight  dis- 
putations, his  contortions,  his  mutterings,  his  gruntings, 
his  puffings,  his  vigorous,  acute,  and  ready  eloquence,, 
his  sarcastic  wit,  his  vehemence,  his  insolence,  his  fits 
of  tempestuous  rage,  his  queer  intimates,  old  Mr.  Levett 
and  blind  Mrs.  Williams,  the  cat  Hodge  and  the  negro 
Frank,  are  all  as  familiar  to  us  as  the  objects  by  which 
we  have  been  surrounded  from  childhood.  But  we  have 
no  minute  information  respecting  those  years  of  John- 
son's life  during  which  his  character  and  his  manners 
became  immutably  fixed.    We  know  him  not  as  he  was 


370 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


known  to  the  men  of  his  own  generation,  but  as  he  was 
known  to  men  whose  father  he  might  have  been.  That 
celebrated  club  of  which  he  was  the  most  distinguished 
member  contained  few  persons  who  could  remember  a 
time  when  his  fame  was  not  fully  established  and  his 
habits  completely  formed.  He  had  made  himself  a  name 
in  literature  while  Reynolds  and  the  Wartons  were  still 
boys.  He  was  about  twenty  years  older  than  Burke, 
Goldsmith,  and  Gerard  Hamilton,  about  thirty  years 
older  than  Gibbon,  Beauclerk,  and  Langton,  about  forty 
years  older  than  Lord  Stowell,  Sir  "William  Jones,  and 
"Windham.  Boswell  and  Mrs.  Thrale,  the  two  writers 
from  whom  we  derive  most  of  our  knowledge  respecting 
him,  never  saw  him  till  long  after  he  was  fifty  years  old, 
till  most  of  his  great  works  had  become  classical,  and 
till  the  pension  bestowed  on  him  by  the  Crown  had 
placed  him  above  poverty.  Of  those  eminent  men  who 
were  his  most  intimate  associates  towards  the  close  of 
his  life,  the  only  one,  as  far  as  we  remember,  who  knew 
him  during  the  first  ten  or  twelve  years  of  his  residence 
at  the  capital,  was  David  Garrick;  and  it  does  not 
appear  that  during  those  years,  David  Garrick  saw  much 
of  his  fellow-townsman. — Macaulay,  Samuel  Johnson. 

[There  is  other  interesting  descriptive  material  in 
this  essay.] 

Boswell,  we  are  told,  had  a  strong  Scotch  accent, 
though  by  no  means  strong  enough  to  make  him  unin- 
telligible to  an  English  ear.  He  had  an  odd  mock 
solemnity  of  tone  and  manner  that  he  had  acquired 
unconsciously  from  constantly  talking  of,  and  imitat- 
ing Johnson.  There  was  also  something  slouching  in 
the  gait  and  dress  of  Mr.  Boswell  that  ridiculously  cari- 
catured the  same  model.  His  clothes  were  always  too 
large  for  him ;  his  hair,  or  wig,  was  constantly  in  a 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


371 


state  of  negligence ;  and  he  never  for  a  moment  sat  still 
or  upright  in  his  chair.  Every  look  and  movement 
betrayed  either  intentional  or  involuntary  imitation. — ■ 
Seeley,  Fanny  Burney  and  her  Friends. 


[Irving.]  A  crayon  drawing  of  Irving  by  the  hand 
of  Vanderlyn,  made  in  1805,  enables  us  to  learn  what 
manner  of  man  he  was  at  this  time.  The  portrait  rep- 
resents him  with  a  long  and  somewhat  angular  chin,  a 
finely  cut  mouth,  a  long  aquiline  nose,  a  bright  full 
eye,  delicately  pencilled  eyebrows,  a  high,  full  fore- 
head, somewhat  concealed  by  the  falling  hair,  which 
was  short  and  slightly  curling,  and  light  side-whiskers. 
His  passports  show  that  his  height  was  five  feet  seven 
inches,  his  hair  chestnut,  and  his  eyes  blue.  Alto- 
gether he  was  an  attractive,  if  not  a  handsome  young 
man;  and  his  travels  had  imparted  an  ease  and  grace 
to  his  manners  that  gave  an  impression  of  courtly 
breeding. — D.  J.  Hill,  Life  of  Washington  Irving. 


The  penmanship  completely  surpassed  my  highest 
expectations.  It  was  a  revelation.  .  .  .  That  a  human 
creature  could  create  such  illuminations  with  simple 
pen  and  ink  was  marvelous.  It  was  the  gentleman  of 
the  old-school  style  of  penmanship  carried  to  excess. 
The  upstrokes  were  amazingly  fine,  and  the  down 
strokes  as  amazingly  heavy;  the  capitals  were  dreams 
of  flourishes,  flourishes  that  went  round  and  round, 
like  pinwheels,  and  intertwined  and  encircled  each 
other :  in  some  places  they  were  as  thin  as  a  hair,  and 
in  some  places  as  broad  as  the  eighth  of  an  inch.  They 
mixed  up  with  small  letters  and  lost  themselves  among 
them,  and  reappeared  further  on  down  the  line.  "It 
was  made  with  the  whole-arm  movement,"  explained 


372 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Murphy,  and  I  believe  him.  In  a  mental  picture  now 
I  can  see  that  talented  and  accomplished  man  push 
back  his  cuff,  and  sway  his  whole  arm  from  the  shoul- 
der, around  and  around,  preparing  to  begin. — Robert 
C.  Holliday,  A  Conspiracy. 

[The  description  above  was  written  by  a  man  who  is 
not  of  the  visual  type  of  imagination,  so  he  himself  has 
told  me.  He  does  not  see  things  in  imagination  as  pic- 
tures, and  yet  he  knows  how  they  look.  He  is  largely 
of  the  motor  type.  The  description  should  be  studied 
with  these  facts  in  mind.] 


The  whole  scene  impressed  itself  sharply  upon  Page's 
mind — the  fine  sunlit  room,  with  its  gay  open  spaces 
and  the  glimpse  of  green  leaves  from  the  conservatory, 
the  view  of  the  smooth,  trim  lawn  through  the  many 
windows,  where  an  early  robin,  strayed  from  the  park, 
was  chirruping  and  feeding;  her  beautiful  sister 
Laura,  with  her  splendid  overshadowing  coiffure,  her 
pale,  clear  skin,  her  slender  figure;  Jadwin,  the  large 
solid  man  of  affairs,  with  his  fine  cigar,  his  gardenia, 
his  well-groomed  air.  And  then  the  little  accessories 
that  meant  so  much — the  smell  of  violets,  of  good  to- 
bacco, of  fragrant  coffee ;  the  gleaming  damasks,  china 
and  silver  of  the  breakfast  table;  the  trim,  fresh- 
looking  maid,  with  her  white  cap,  apron,  and  cuffs, 
who  came  and  went;  the  thoroughbred  setter  dozing 
in  the  sun,  and  the  parrot  dozing  and  chuckling  to 
himself  on  his  perch  upon  the  terrace  outside  the 
window. — Norris,  The  Pit,  Chapter  VI. 


Nine  years  old,  on  3rd  January,  1858,  thus  now 
rising  towards  ten;  neither  tall  nor  short  for  her  age; 
a  little  stiff  in  her  way  of  standing.  Her  eyes  rather 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


373 


deep  blue  at  that  time,  and  fuller  and  softer  after- 
wards. Lips  perfectly  lovely  in  profile; — a  little  too 
wide  and  hard  in  the  edge,  seen  in  front;  the  rest  of 
the  features  what  a  fair,  well-bred  Irish  girl's  usually 
are;  the  hair,  perhaps,  more  graceful  in  short  curl 
round  the  forehead,  and  softer  than  one  sees  often,  in 
the  close-bound  tresses  above  the  neck. — Ruskin, 
Prceterita,  III.  Quoted  in  Baldwin's  Specimens  of 
Prose  Description,  p.  xvii. 


"A  slight  figure,"  said  Mr.  Peggotty,  looking  at  the 
fire,  "kiender  worn;  soft,  sorrowful,  blue  eyes;  a  deli- 
cate face,  a  pritty  head,  leaning  a  little  down;  a  quiet 
voice  and  way — timid  a 'most.  That's  Em'ly.  .  .  . 
Cheerful  along  with  me ;  retired  when  others  is  by ; 
fond  of  going  any  distance  fur  to  teach  a  child,  or  fur 
to  tend  a  sick  person,  or  fur  to  do  some  kindness 
tow'rds  a  young  girl's  wedding  (and  she's  done  a 
many,  but  has  never  seen  one)  ;  fondly  loving  of  her 
uncle;  patient;  liked  by  young  and  old;  sowt  out  by 
all  that  has  any  trouble.  That's  Em'ly!" — Dickens, 
David  Copper-field,  Ch.  LXIII.  Quoted  in  A.  S.  Hill's 
Principles  of  Rhetoric,  p.  263. 


[Egdon  Heath.]  A  Saturday  afternoon  in  November 
was  approaching  the  time  of  twilight,  and  the  vast 
tract  of  unenclosed  wild  known  as  Egdon  Heath  em- 
browned itself  moment  by  moment.  Overhead  the 
hollow  stretch  of  whitest  cloud  shutting  out  the  sky 
was  a  tent  which  had  the  whole  heath  as  its  floor. 

The  heaven  being  spread  with  this  pallid  screen  and 
the  earth  with  the  darkest  vegetation,  their  meeting- 
line  at  the  horizon  was  clearly  marked.  In  such  con- 
trast the  heath  wore  the  appearance  of  an  installment 


374 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


of  night  which  had  taken  up  its  place  before  its  as- 
tronomical hour  was  come:  darkness  had  to  a  great 
extent  arrived  hereon,  while  day  stood  distant  in  the 
sky.  Looking  upwards  a  furze-cutter  would  have  been 
inclined  to  continue  work;  looking  down,  he  would 
have  decided  to  finish  his  faggot  and  go  home.  The 
distant  rims  of  the  world  and  of  the  firmament  seemed 
to  be  a  division  in  time  no  less  than  a  division  in  matter. 
The  face  of  the  heath  by  its  mere  complexion  added 
half  an  hour  to  evening;  it  could  in  like  manner  re- 
tard the  dawn,  sadden  noon,  anticipate  the  frowning 
of  storms  scarcely  generated,  and  intensify  the  opacity 
of  a  moonless  night  to  a  cause  of  shaking  and  dread. — 
Hardy,  Return  of  the  Native. 


The  pageant  on  the  day  of  the  burial  was  indescrib- 
able. The  cessation  of  business,  the  dense  blackness 
of  the  festoons  of  drapery,  the  stillness  and  awe  of  the 
*  spectators,  the  multitudes  so  immense  that  they  became 
impersonal  and  conveyed  only  the  idea  of  numbers, 
mass,  and  volume,  like  the  leaves  of  a  forest  or  the 
sands  of  the  sea;  the  lofty  hearse  with  its  twelve  led 
horses  completely  caparisoned  in  black,  with  silver 
fringes  sweeping  the  ground;  the  dirges  of  bands  and 
bells,  all  contributed  to  a  spectacle  that  can  neither  be 
described  nor  forgotten. — J.  J.  Ingalls,  Garfield. 


Deep  in  the  shady  sadness  of  a  vale 

Far  sunken  from  the  healthy  breath  of  morn, 

Far  from  the  fiery  noon,  and  eve's  one  star, 

Sat  gray-haired  Saturn,  quiet  as  a  stone, 

Still  as  the  silence  round  about  his  lair; 

Forest  on  forest  hung  about  his  head 

Like  cloud  on  cloud.    No  stir  of  air  was  there, 

Not  so  much  life  as  on  a  summer 's  day 


LESS  TNG 'S  LAOCOON 


375 


Robs  not  one  light  seed  from  the  feather 'd  grass, 

But  where  the  dead  leaf  fell,  there  did  it  rest. 

A  stream  went  voiceless  by,  still  deadened  more 

By  reason  of  its  fallen  divinity 

Spreading  a  shade :  the  Naiad  'mid  her  reeds 

Press 'd  her  cold  finger  closer  to  her  lips. 

Along  the  margin-sand  large  foot-marks  went, 

No  further  than  to  where  his  feet  had  stray 'd, 

And  slept  there  since.    Upon  the  sodden  ground 

His  old  right  hand  lay  nerveless,  listless,  dead, 

Unseeptred ;  and  his  realmless  eyes  were  closed ; 

While  his  bow'd  head  seem'd  list'ning  to  the  Earth, 

His  ancient  mother,  for  some  comfort  yet. 

— Keats,  Hyperion. 

[Study  the  above  description  intensively  with  the 
object  of  determining  the  effect  produced  and  the 
means  used.  What  suggests  remoteness?  lif  elessness  ? 
intense  quiet?  What  makes  the  description  sound 
dreamy?  Any  motion  in  it?  Any  contrast?  Any 
comparisons  ?  Cf .  Faerie  Quene,  Bk.  1,  Can.  1 :  39-43, 
House  of  Morpheus.  Also  see  Thompson's  Castle  of 
Indolence,  Bk.  1.] 


St.  Agnes  Eve — Ah,  bitter  cold  it  was! 
The  owl,  for  all  his  feathers,  was  a-cold; 
The  hare  limp'd  trembling  through  the  frozen  grass,. 
And  silent  was  the  flock  in  woolly  fold : 
Numb  were  the  beadsman's  fingers,  while  he  told 
His  rosary,  and  while  his  frosted  breath, 
Like  pious  incense  from  a  censor  old, 
Seem'd  taking  flight  for  heaven,  without  a  death,. 
Past  the  sweet  Virgin's  picture,  while  his  prayer  he 
saith. 

His  prayer  he  saith,  this  patient,  holy  man ; 
Then  takes  his  lamp,  and  riseth  from  his  knees, 
And  back  returneth,  meagre,  barefoot,  wan, 
Along  the  chapel  isle  by  slow  degrees: 
The  sculptur'd  dead,  on  each  side,  seem  to  freeze> 


376 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


Emprison  'd  in  black,  purgatorial  rails : 

Knights,  ladies,  praying  in  dumb  orat'ries, 

He  passeth  by;  and  his  weak  spirit  fails 

To  think  how  they  may  ache  in  icy  hoods  and  mails. 

Northward  he  turneth  through  a  little  door, 

And  scarce  three  steps,  ere  Music's  golden  tongue 

Flatter 'd  to  tears  this  aged  man  and  poor; 

But  no — already  had  his  deathbell  rung; 

The  joys  of  all  his  life  were  said  and  sung: 

His  was  harsh  penance  on  St.  Agnes'  Eve: 

Another  way  he  went,  and  soon  among 

Kough  ashes  sat  he  for  his  soul's  reprieve, 

And  all  night  kept  awake,  for  sinners'  sake  to  grieve. 

That  ancient  Beadsman  heard  the  prelude  soft; 
And  so  it  chanc'd,  for  many  a  door  was  wide, 
From  hurry  to  and  fro.   Soon,  up  aloft, 
The  silver  snarling  trumpets  'gan  to  chide : 
The  level  chambers,  ready  with  their  pride, 
Were  glowing  to  receive  a  thousand  guests: 
The  carved  angels,  ever  eager-ey'd, 
Star 'd,  where  upon  their  heads  the  cornice  rests, 
With  hair  blown  back,  and  wings  put  cross-wise  on 
their  breasts. 

At  length  burst  in  the  argent  revelry, 

With  plume,  tiara,  and  all  rich  array. 

Numerous  as  shadows  haunting  faerily 

The  brain,  new  stuff 'd,  in  youth,  with  triumphs  gay 

Of  old  romance  

— Keats,  Eve  of  St.  Agnes. 


And  see  where  surly  winter  passes  off, 

Far  to  the  north,  and  calls  his  ruffian  blasts : 

His  blasts  obey,  and  quit  the  howling  hill. 

The  shatter 'd  forest,  and  the  ravaged  vale; 

While  softer  gales  succeed,  at  whose  kind  touch, 

Dissolving  snows  in  living  torrents  lost. 

The  mountains  lift  their  green  heads  to  the  sky. 

As  yet  the  trembling  year  is  unconfirm'd, 


LESSIKG'S  LAOCOON 


377 


And  Winter  oft  at  eve  resumes  the  breeze, 
Ohills  the  pale  morn,  and  bids  his  driving  sleets 
Deform  the  day  delightless ;  so  that  scarce 
The  bittern  knows  his  time,  with  bill  engulf 'd 
To  shake  the  sounding  marsh;  or  from  the  shore 
The  plovers  when  to  scatter  o'er  the  heath, 
And  sing  their  wild  notes  to  the  listening  waste. 
At  last  from  Aries  rolls  the  bounteous  Sun, 
And  the  bright  Bull  receives  him.    Then  no  more 
Th'  expansive  atmosphere  is  cramp 'd  with  cold; 
But,  full  of  life  and  vivifying  soul, 

Lifts  the  light  clouds  sublime,  and  spreads  them  thin, 

Fleecy  and  white,  o'er  all-surrounding  heaven. 

Forth  fly  the  tepid  airs;  and  unconfin'd, 

Unbinding  earth,  the  moving  softness  strays. 

Joyous,  the  impatient  husbandman  perceives 

Relenting  Nature,  and  his  lusty  steers 

Drives  from  their  stalls,  to  where  the  well-used  plough 

Lies  in  the  furrow,  loosen 'd  from  the  frost. 

There,  unref using,  to  the  harness 'd  yoke 

They  lend  their  shoulder,  and  begin  their  toil, 

Cheer 'd  by  the  simple  song  and  soaring  lark. 

Meanwhile  incumbent  o'er  the  shining  share 

The  master  leans,  removes  th'  obstructing  clay, 

"Winds  the  whole  work,  and  sidelong  lays  the  glebe. 

While  thro'  the  neighb'ring  fields  the  sower  stalks, 

With  measured  step ;  and  liberal  throws  the  grain 

Into  the  faithful  bosom  of  the  ground: 

The  harrow  follows  harsh,  and  shuts  the  scene. 

— Thompson,  The  Seasons,  Spring. 

[In  the  above  description  particularly  notice  the  use 
of  adjectives.  Does  Thompson  seem  to  have  any  man- 
nerisms in  their  use?  Their  number?  Do  they  fall 
into  types  according  to  ending  or  part  of  speech? 
Their  appropriateness?  Their  effect  upon  the  reader? 
The  imagery,  is  it  harmonious?  What  are  the  chief 
beauties  of  the  description?] 


378 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


And  now  arriving  at  the  isle,  he  springs 
Oblique,  and  landing  with  subsided  wings, 
Walks  to  the  cavern  'mid  the  tall  green  rocks, 
Where  dwelt  the  goddess  with  the  lovely  locks. 
He  paused :  and  there  came  on  him  as  he  stood, 
A  smell  of  cedar  and  of  citron  wood, 
That  threw  a  perfume  all  about  the  isle ; 
And  she  within  sat  spinning  all  the  while, 
And  sang  a  low  sweet  song  that  made  him  hark  and 
smile. 

A  sylvan  nook  it  was,  grown  round  with  trees, 
Poplars,  and  elms,  and  odorous  cypresses, 
In  which  all  birds  of  ample  wing,  the  owl 
And  hawk,  had  nests,  and  broad-tongued  waterfowl. 
The  cave  in  front  was  spread  with  a  green  vine, 
Whose  dark  round  bunches  almost  burst  with  wine; 
And  from  four  springs,  running  a  sprightly  race, 
Four  fountains  clear  and  crisp  refreshed  the  place; 
While  all  about  a  meadowy  ground  was  seen, 
Of  violets  mingling  with  the  parsley  green. 

— Leigh  Hunt's  translation. 

[Compare  this  description  with  the  one  following, 
and  also  with  the  prose  translation  on  page  238.  These 
are  three  different  versions  of  Homer's  description  of 
Calypso's  grotto.  Odyssey,  Book  V.  Note  differences 
of  effect  due  to  differences  of  method  and  form.] 

Then,  swift  ascending  from  the  azure  wave, 
He  took  the  path  that  winded  to  the  cave. 
Large  was  the  grot,  in  which  the  nymph  he  found 
(The  fair-hair 'd  nymph  with  every  beauty  crown 'd). 
She  sate  and  sung;  the  rocks  resound  her  lays, 
The  cave  was  brighten 'd  with  a  rising  blaze; 
Cedar  and  frankincense,  an  odorous  pile, 
Flamed  on  the  hearth,  and  wide  perfumed  the  isle ; 
While  she  with  work  and  song  the  time  divides, 
And  through  the  loom  the  golden  shuttle  guides. 
Without  the  grot  a  various  sylvan  scene 
Appear 'd  around,  and  groves  of  living  green; 
Poplars  and  alders  ever  quivering  play'd, 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


379 


And  nodding  cypress  form'd  a  fragrant  shade; 

On  whose  high  branches,  waving  with  the  storm, 

The  birds  of  broadest  wing  their  mansions  form, — 

The  chough,  the  sea-mew,  the  loquacious  crow, — 

And  scream  aloft,  and  skim  the  deeps  below. 

Depending  vines  the  shelving  cavern  screen, 

With  purple  clusters  blushing  through  the  green. 

Four  limpid  fountains  from  the  clefts  distil; 

And  every  fountain  pours  a  several  rill, 

In  mazy  windings  wandering  down  the  hill; 

Where  bloomy  meads  with  vivid  greens  were  crown 'd, 

And  glowing  violets  threw  odours  round. 

A  scene,  where,  if  a  god  should  cast  his  sight, 

A  god  might  gaze,  and  wander  with  delight ! 

Joy  touch 'd  the  messenger  of  heaven:  he  stay'd 

Entranced,  and  all  the  blissful  haunts  survey 'd. 

— Pope's  translation. 

[Countess  Guiccioli.]  The  countess  is  twenty-three 
years  of  age,  though  she  appears  no  more  than  seventeei 
or  eighteen.  Unlike  most  of  the  Italian  women,  her 
complexion  is  delicately  fair.  Her  eyes,  large,  dark,  and 
languishing,  are  shaded  by  the  longest  eye-lashes' in  the 
world;  and  her  hair,  which  is  ungathered  on  her  head, 
plays  over  her  shoulders  falling  in  a  profusion  of  natural 
ringlets  of  the  darkest  auburn.  Her  figure,  is,  perhaps, 
too  much  embonpoint  for  her  height ;  but  her  bust  is  per- 
fect. Her  features  want  little  of  possessing  a  Grecian 
regularity  of  outline;  and  she  has  the  most  beautiful 
mouth  and  teeth  imaginable.  It  is  impossible  to  see 
without  admiring — to  hear  the  Guiccioli  speak  without 
being  fascinated.  Her  amiability  and  gentleness  show 
themselves  in  every  intonation  of  her  voice,  which,  and 
the  music  of  her  perfect  Italian,  give  a  peculiar  charm 
to  everything  she  utters.  Grace  and  elegance  seem  com- 
ponent parts  of  her  nature.  Notwithstanding  that  she 
adores  Lord  Byron,  it  is  evident  that  the  exile  and  pov- 


380 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


erty  of  her  aged  father  sometimes  affect  her  spirits,  and 
throw  a  shade  of  melancholy  on  her  countenance,  which 
adds  to  the  deep  interest  this  lovely  woman  creates.  Her 
conversation  is  lively,  without  being  learned;  she  has 
read  all  the  4)est  authors  of  her  own  and  the  French 
language.  She  often  conceals  what  she  knows,  from  the 
fear  of  being  thought  to  know  too  much. — Sir  Hen.  Bul- 
wer,  Life  of  George  Gordon,  Lord  Byron.  (Illustrated 
Byron. ) 

Out  went  the  taper  as  she  hurried  in ; 

Its  little  smoke,  in  pallid  moonshine,  died: 

She  clos'd  the  door,  she  panted,  all  akin 

To  spirits  of  the  air,  and  visions  wide : 

No  uttered  syllable,  or,  woe  betide ! 

But  to  her  heart,  her  heart  was  voluble, 

Paining  with  eloquence  her  balmy  side ; 

As  though  a  tongueless  nightingale  should  swell 

Her  throat  in  vain,  and  die,  heart-stifled,  in  her  dell. 

A  casement  high  and  triple-arch 'd  there  was, 
All  garlanded  with  carven  imageries 
Of  fruits,  and  flowers,  and  bunches  of  knot-grass, 
And  diamonded  with  panes  of  quaint  device, 
Innumerable  of  stains  and  splendid  dyes, 
As  are  the  tiger-moth's  deep-damask 'd  wings; 
And  in  the  midst,  'mong  thousand  heraldries, 
And  twilight  saints,  and  dim  emblazonings, 
A  shielded  scutcheon  blush 'd  with  the  blood  of  queens 
and  kings. 

Full  on  this  casement  shone  the  wintry  moon, 

And  threw  warm  gules  on  Madeline's  fair  breast, 

As  down  she  knelt  for  heaven's  grace  and  boon; 

Rose-bloom  fell  on  her  hands,  together  prest, 

And  on  her  silver  cross  soft  amethyst, 

And  on  her  hair  a  glory  like  a  saint : 

She  seem'd  a  splendid  angel,  newly  drest, 

Save  wings,  for  heaven: — Porphyro  grew  faint: 

She  knelt,  so  pure  a  thing,  so  free  from  mortal  taint. 

— Keats,  Eve  of  St.  Agnes. 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


381 


See  what  a  lovely  shell, 
Small  and  pure  as  a  pearl, 
Lying  close  to  my  foot, 
Frail,  but  a  work  divine, 
Made  so  fairly  well, 
With  delicate  spire  and  whorl, 
How  exquisitely  minute, 
A  miracle  of  design! 

— Tennyson,  Maud. 


She  [Clemency]  was  about  thirty  years  old;  and  had 
a  sufficiently  plump  and  cheerful  face,  though  it  was 
twisted  up  into  an  odd  expression  of  tightness  that  made 
it  comical.  But  the  extraordinary  homeliness  of  her 
gait  and  manner  would  have  superseded  any  face  in  the 
world.  To  say  that  she  had  two  left  legs,  and  somebody 
else's  arms;  and  that  all  four  limbs  seemed  out  of  joint, 
and  to  start  from  perfectly  wrong  places  when  they  were 
set  in  motion,  is  to  offer  the  mildest  outline  of  the  real- 
ity. To  say  that  she  was  perfectly  content  and  satisfied 
with  these  arrangements,  and  regarded  them  as  being  no 
business  of  hers  and  took  her  legs  and  arms  just  as  they 
came,  and  allowed  them  to  dispose  of  themselves  just  as 
it  happened,  is  to  render  faint  justice  to  her 
equanimity.  Her  dress  was  a  prodigious  pair  of  self- 
willed  shoes,  that  never  wanted  to  go  where  her  feet 
went;  blue  stockings;  a  printed  gown  of  many  colors, 
and  the  most  hideous  pattern  procurable  for  money ;  and 
a  white  apron.  She  always  wore  short  sleeves,  and  always 
had,  by  some  accident,  grazed  elbows,  in  which  she  took 
so  lively  an  interest  that  she  was  continually  trying  to 
turn  them  round  and  get  impossible  views  of  them.  In 
general,  a  little  cap  perched  somewhere  on  her  head; 
though  it  was  rarely  to  be  met  with  in  the  place  usually 
occupied  in  other  subjects,  by  that  article  of  dress,  but 


382 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


from  head  to  foot  she  was  scrupulously  clean,  and  main- 
tained a  kind  of  dislocated  tidiness. — Dickens,  Battle 
of  Life. 

She  [Clemency]  raised  her  head  as  with  a  sudden 
attention  to  the  circumstances  under  which  she  was 
recalling  these  events,  and  looked  quickly  at  the  stranger, 
[Michael  Warden.]  Seeing  that  his  face  was  turned 
toward  the  window,  and  that  he  seemed  intent  upon  the 
prospect,  she  made  eager  signs  to  her  husband,  and 
pointed  to  the  bill  [poster],  and  moved  her  mouth  as  if 
she  were  repeating  with  great  energy,  one  word  or 
phrase  to  him  over  and  over  again.  As  she  uttered  no 
sound,  and  as  her  dumb  motions  like  most  of  her  ges- 
tures were  of  a  very  extraordinary  kind,  this  unintelli- 
gible conduct  reduced  Mr.  Britain  [her  husband]  to  the 
confines  of  despair.  He  stared  at  the  table,  at  the 
stranger,  at  the  spoons,  at  his  wife — followed  her  panto- 
mime with  looks  of  amazement  and  perplexity — asked  in 
the  same  language,  was  it  property  in  danger,  was  it  he 
in  danger,  was  it  she — answered  her  signals  with  other 
signals  expressive  of  the  deepest  distress  and  confusion — ■ 
followed  the  motion  of  her  lips — guessed  half  aloud 
' '  milk  and  water, "  "  monthly  warning, "  "  mice  and  wal- 
nuts— "  and  couldn't  approach  her  meaning. — Dickens, 
Battle  of  Life. 


I  cannot  tell  you  what  a  horrid  state  of  mind  I  was 
in  for  a  long  time.  I  seemed  to  care  for  nothing ;  the 
world  was  a  blank  to  me.  I  abandoned  all  thoughts  of 
the  law.  I  went  into  the  country,  but  could  not  bear 
solitude,  yet  could  not  endure  society.  There  was  a  dis- 
mal horror  continually  in  my  mind,  that  made  me  fear 
to  be  alone.    I  had  often  to  get  up  in  the  night  and 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


383 


seek  the  bedroom  of  my  brother,  as  if  the  having  a  hu- 
man being  by  me  would  relieve  me  from  the  frightful 
gloom  of  my  own  thoughts. — Warner,  Washington 
Irving. 

Sometimes  a  great  ship,  an  East  Indiaman,  with 
rusty,  seamed,  blistered  sides  and  dingy  sails,  came 
slowly  moving  up  the  harbor,  with  an  air  of  indolent 
self-importance  and  consciousness  of  superiority,  which 
inspired  me  with  profound  respect. — Cary,  Life  of  G.  W. 
Curtis. 


When  the  major  had  concluded  the  perusal  of  this 
letter,  his  countenance  assumed  an  expression  of  such 
rage  and  horror  that  Grlowry,  the  surgeon,  felt  in  his 
pocket  for  his  lancet,  which  he  always  carried  in  his  card- 
case,  and  thought  his  respected  friend  was  going  to  have 
a  fit.  The  intelligence  was  indeed  sufficient  to  agitate 
Pendennis.  The'head  of  the  Pendennises  going  to  marry 
an  actress  ten  years  his  senior, — the  headstrong  boy 
about  to  plunge  into  matrimony. — Thackeray,  Pendennis. 


How  they  did  dance !  Not  like  opera  dancers.  Not 
at  all.  And  not  like  Madame  Anybody's  finished  pupils. 
Not  the  least.  It  was  not  quadrille  dancing,  nor  minuet 
dancing,  nor  even  country  dancing.  It  was  neither  in 
the  old  style,  nor  the  new  style,  nor  the  French  style, 
nor  the  English  style ;  though  it  may  have  been,  by  acci- 
dent, a  trifle  in  the  Spanish  style,  which  is  a  free  and 
joyous  one,  I  am  told,  deriving  a  delightful  air  of  off- 
hand inspiration,  from  the  chirping  little  castanets.  As 
they  danced  among  the  orchard  trees,  and  down  the 
groves  of  stems  and  back  again,  and  twirled  each  other 
lightly  round,  the  influence  of  their  airy  motion  seemed 


384 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


to  spread  and  spread,  in  the  sun-lighted  scene,  like  an 
expanding  circle. — Dickens,  Battle  of  Life. 


[Sounds.]  When  other  birds  are  still  and  screech- 
owls  take  up  the  strain,  like  mourning  women  their 
ancient  a-lu-lu,  their  dismal  scream  is  truly  Ben  Jon- 
sonian.  Wise  midnight  hags !  It  is  no  honest  and 
blunt  tu-whit  tu-who  of  the  poets,  but,  without  jesting, 
a  most  solemn  graveyard  ditty,  the  mutual  consolations 
of  suicide  lovers  remembering  the  pangs  and  the  delights 
of  supernal  love  in  the  infernal  groves.  Yet  I  love  to 
hear  their  wailing,  their  doleful  responses,  trilled  along 
the  woodside;  reminding  me  sometimes  of  music  and 
singing  birds ;  as  if  it  were  the  dark  and  tearful  side  of 
music,  the  regrets  and  sighs  that  would  fain  be  sung. 
They  are  the  spirits,  the  low  spirits  and  melancholy  fore- 
bodings, of  fallen  souls  that  once  in  human  shape  night- 
walked  the  earth  and  did  the  deeds  of  darkness,  now 
expiating  their  sins  with  their  wailing  hymns  or 
threnodies  in  the  scenery  of  their  transgressions.  They 
give  me  a  new  sense  of  the  variety  and  capacity  of  that 
nature  which  is  our  common  dwelling.  Ok-o-o-o  that  I 
had  never  been  bor-r-r-r-n!  sighs  one  on  this  side  of  the 
pond,  and  circles  with  the  restlessness  of  despair  on  some 
new  perch  on  the  gray  oaks.  The — that  I  had  never 
been  bor-r-r-r-n!  echoes  another  on  the  farther  side  with 
tremulous  sincerity,  and  bor-r-r-r-n!  comes  faintly  from 
far  in  the  Lincoln  woods. 

I  was  also  serenaded  by  a  hooting-owl.  Near  at  hand 
you  could  fancy  it  the  most  melancholy  sound  in  Nature, 
as  if  she  meant  by  this  to  stereotype  and  make  permanent 
in  her  choir  the  dying  moans  of  a  human  being, — some 
poor  weak  relic  of  mortality  who  has  left  hope  behind, 
and  howls  like  an  animal,  yet  with  human  sobs,  on  enter- 


LESSING'S  LAOCOON 


385 


ing  the  dark  valley,  made  more  awful  by  a  certain  gur- 
gling melodiousness, — I  find  myself  beginning  with  the 
letters  gl  when  I  try  to  imitate  it, — expressive  of  a  mind 
which  has  reached  the  gelatinous  mildewy  stage  in  the 
mortification  of  all  healthy  and  courageous  thought.  It 
reminded  me  of  ghouls  and  idiots  and  insane  howlings. 
But  now  one  answers  from  far  woods  in  a  strain  made 
really  melodious  by  distance, — Hoo  hoo,  hoo,  hoorer  hoo ; 
and  indeed  for  the  most  part  it  suggested  only  pleasing 
associations,  whether  heard  by  day  or  night,  summer  or 
winter. 

I  rejoice  that  there  are  owls.  Let  them  do  the  idiotic 
and  maniacal  hooting  for  men.  It  is  a  sound  admirably 
suited  to  swamps  and  twilight  woods  which  no  day  illus- 
trates, suggesting  a  vast  and  undeveloped  nature  which 
men  have  not  recognized.  They  represent  the  stark  twi- 
light and  unsatisfied  thoughts  which  we  have.  All  day 
the  sun  has  shone  on  the  surface  of  some  savage  swamp, 
where  the  single  spruce  stands  hung  with  usnea  lichens, 
and  small  hawks  circulate  above,  and  the  chicadee  lisps 
amid  the  evergreens,  and  the  partridge  and  the  rabbit 
skulk  beneath;  but  now  a  more  dismal  and  fitting  day 
dawns,  and  a  different  race  of  creatures  awakes  to  express 
the  meaning  of  Nature  there. — Thoreau,  Walden^ 
(Sounds). 


Ill 


THE  RELATION  OF  THE  STANDARD  LANGUAGE 
TO  THE  POPULATION  OF  LONDON1 


LAST  year  in  the  preparation  of  my  paper  for 
the  Modern  Language  Association2  I  felt  the 
real  thrill  of  discovery  when  I  chanced  to 
look  up  the  vital  statistics  for  London  in  the  17th 
century.  Such  material  is  not  usually  thrilling,  and 
those  otherwise  dull,  oppressive  figures  had  power 
over  me  only  as  I  thought  of  them  in  connection  with 
the  part  played  by  London  in  crystallizing  our  standard 
language.  I  should  have  had  my  interest  aroused  if  I 
had  made  for  myself  no  other  discovery  than  the  aston- 
ishing discrepancy  between  birth-rate  and  death-rate. 
It  is  important  enough  to  challenge  attention  that  in 
several  different  years  the  metropolis  lost  eight  or  nine 
times  as  many  inhabitants  as  there  were  children  born. 
Truly  the  ravages  of  the  plague  were  more  terrible  than 
many  people  realize.  But  when  I  learned  that,  in  spite 
of  this  tremendous  death-rate,  the  city  instead  of  fall- 
ing back  in  population,  or  of  having  trouble  in  holding 
its  own,  actually  increased  during  the  century  about 
three  fold,  I  was  given,  as  I  have  said,  a  real  thrill, — for 
these  statistics  seemed  to  throw  a  flood  of  light  on  some 
hitherto  dark  places  and  to  show  up  most  clearly  some 
of  the  most  important  influences  that  went  to  shape  the 
language  of  the  metropolis. 


1—  Read  by  title  at  the  meeting  of  The  Modern  Language  Asso- 
ciation, Dec.  1907,  summarized  in  Proceedings,  p.  xx. 

2 —  On  the  Conservation  of  Language  in  a  New  Country.  Publi- 
cations of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America,  June, 
1907. 


339 


390 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


London  in  the  17th  century  must  have  contained  a 
heterogeneous  population.  Inasmuch  as  the  death-rate 
throughout  the  century  was  higher  than  the  birth-rate, 
the  whole  increase  in  population  was  due  to  immigration, 
and  for  much  of  the  time,  perhaps  all  of  it,  a  large 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  must  have  been  of  foreign 
birth.  That  means  that  numerous  dialects  were  brought 
to  the  city  and  used  there  side  by  side, — for  no  matter 
how  anxious  the  newcomers  may  have  been  to  make 
their  speech  conform  to  the  traditions  of  the  capital, 
the  process  could  not  be  an  instantaneous  one  nor  the 
result  in  many  cases  anywhere  nearly  perfect.  In  the 
seventeenth  century,  then,  we  have  conditions  very  fa- 
vorable to  speech  mixture.  My  curiosity  naturally 
prompted  me  to  ask  the  question,  What  was  the  state 
of  affairs  in  other  centuries?  This  paper  is  in  large 
part  my  attempt  at  an  answer. 

The  first  fact  that  I  have  need  to  chronicle  is  the 
almost  complete  silence  of  the  English  historians  with 
reference  to  all  matters  relating  to  the  subject.  Many 
tolerably  thorough  histories  say  nothing  of  any  of  the 
pestilences  aside  of  that  of  the  Black  Death  of  1349 
and  perhaps  the  plague  of  1665,  and  yet  in  the  long 
stretch  of  over  three  centuries  in  between  there  were 
not  so  very  many  decades  unvisited  by  pestilence. 
Again,  there  are  several  lives  of  Shakespeare  and  sev- 
eral lengthy  accounts  of  London  in  the  time  of  Eliza- 
beth that  make  no  mention  of  any  plague  in  the  city,, 
and  yet  during  this  period  the  theatres  had  to  be  closed 
a  number  of  times  because  of  it.  This  silence  is  to  me 
a  strange  matter,  for  the  plague  was  no  mere  trifle  like 
a  cold  in  the  head,  but  on  the  contrary  a  very  mortal 
disease  that  killed  people  by  the  thousand,  and  must 
therefore  have  more  or  less  profoundly  influenced  in- 
dustrial and  social  life. 


LANGUAGE  AND  LONDON  POPULATION  391 


Of  course  we  all  know  of  the  Black  Death  of  1349 
and  of  the  immense  number  that  died  of  it  in  both  city 
and  country.  London  itself  lost  a  half  of  its  popula- 
tion, and  according  to  the  chroniclers  of  the  time  whole 
districts  elsewhere  were  almost  entirely  depopulated. 
The  Black  Death  of  1349  has  been  given  adequate  treat- 
ment, but  how  many  historians  know  that  in  the  half- 
century  following  there  were  no  less  than  five  other 
plagues,  most  of  them  probably  of  the  same  nature? 
Thus  the  second  great  epidemic,  which  fell  mostly  on 
the  upper  classes  and  the  rising  generation,  was  in  1361, 
the  third  in  1368-9,  the  fourth  in  1375,  the  fifth  in  1382, 
the  sixth  in  1390-91. 1  And  there  were  other  outbreaks  of 
sickness  besides  these.  When  we  consider  such  a  list  of 
epidemics  we  find  no  reason  for  looking  upon  the  17th 
century  as  representing  conditions  in  any  way  peculiar. 

The  15th  century  also,  though  it  is  a  silent  age,  which 
chronicled  little,  and  about  which  it  is  difficult  to  find  out 
very  much,  seems  to  tell  us  the  same  story  of  the  ravages 
of  plague,  famine,  and  pestilence.  "A  century  in  which 
more  than  twenty  outbreaks  of  plague  occurred,  and 
have  been  recorded  by  the  chroniclers,  can  hardly  be 
regarded  by  us  except  as  one  long  unbroken  period  of 
pestilence,"  so  Denton  is  quoted  as  saying  in  his  book, 
England  in  the  Fifteenth  Century.2  One  attack  fell 
sometime  between  1405-07,  and  is  said  by  the  St.  Albans 
annalist  to  have  left  desolate  many  humble  homes  which 
had  been  gladdened  by  a  numerous  progeny;  another 
attended  and  followed  the  great  famine  of  1438  and  was 
most  felt  in  1439,  being  called  "the  pestilence."3  After 


1—  Traill,  Social  England,  II,  pp.  138,  241. 

2 —  Cunningham,  Growth  of  English  Industries  and  Commerce, 
I,  p.  388. 

3 —  Creighton,  Traill's  Social  England,  II,  p.  414. 


392 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


six  fierce  attacks1  within  28  years,  four  months  of  plague 
in  1477  swept  off  three  times  the  number  of  people  that 
had  perished  in  the  civil  wars  during  the  previous 
fifteen  years.  But  from  this  time  on  it  was  to  the  towns 
and  to  the  poorer  classes  in  these  that  the  plague  was 
almost  entirely  restricted.  Of  the  cities  London  always 
took  the  lead — even  from  the  scanty  records  of  the  15th 
century  the  existence  of  plague  in  the  capital  to  a  more 
or  less  dangerous  extent  can  be  traced  in  most  years.2 

The  16th  century  tells  us  the  same  story.  In  1499- 
1500,  says  Creighton,3  our  best  authority  on  the  subject 
of  English  epidemics,  "the  plague  in  London  is 
vaguely  estimated  to  have  destroyed  20,000  of  its  citi- 
zens; but  if  it  had  destroyed  only  half  of  that  number 
it  would  have  taken  the  usual  toll  of  a  London  plague 
of  the  first  degree — namely,  one-fifth  or  one-sixth  of  the 
inhabitants."  "In  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.,  plague 
was  a  very  serious  disturber  of  the  public  health;  from 
the  first  to  the  last  year  of  his  reign  there  were  probably 
not  half  a  dozen  summers  or  autumns  for  which  we 
lack  evidence  of  plague  in  London.  Some  of  the  years, 
such  as  1513,  1521,  1535,  1543,  1547,  witnessed  epi- 
demics of  the  greater  degree  in  the  capital.  .  .  .  The 
mortalities  of  these  greater  epidemics  are  not  known 
with  numerical  exactness  until  1563;  but  from  the  ex- 
perience of  that  and  many  subsequent  epidemics,  in 
which  figures  were  kept,  it  may  be  safely  asserted  that, 
on  an  average,  once  in  a  generation,  and  during  a  period 
of  three  centuries — from  the  Black  Death  to  the  extinc- 
tion of  plague  in  1666 — the  capital  lost  from  a  fourth 
to  a  sixth  of  its  population  at  one  stroke  in  a  single  sea- 


1 —  Fletcher,  Traill's  Social  England,  II,  p.  412. 

2 —  Creighton,  Traill  7s  Social  England,  II,  p.  415. 

3—  Traill 's  Social  England,  II,  p.  564. 


LANGUAGE  AND  LONDON  POPULATION  393 


son,  suffering  also  a  drain  of  its  poorer  classes  from  the 
same  cause  more  or  less  steadily  from  year  to  year."1 
"The  reign  of  Edward  VI.  was  not  without  the  long- 
standing plague,  but  its  chief  interest  for  us  is  that  it 
witnessed  the  fifth  and  last  epidemic  of  the  'sweating 
sickness' — a  very  fatal  malady  that  had  been  carrying 
off  a  great  many  portly  Falstaffs  in  the  preceding 
seventy  years."2  In  the  succeeding  reigns,  however, 
other  similar  diseases  took  its  place.  Meanwhile  the 
plague  continued,  in  1563  the  number  of  deaths  from 
the  dread  disease  reaching  more  than  20,000. 3  The 
other  great  plague  in  Elizabeth's  reign  was  in  1593, 
when  the  total  number  of  deaths  from  plague  and 
other  causes  was  more  than  25,000.4 

About  the.  seventeenth  century  we  have  already  had 
enough  to  say.  In  1666  the  plague  in  England  came  to 
an  end,  but  even  after  that  time  we  do  not  find  that 
the  birth-rate  exceeded  the  death-rate.  Except  for 
short  isolated  periods  that  did  not  happen  before  the 
19th  century.5 

As  a  result  of  this  rapid  survey  it  ought  to  be  clear 
to  us  that  the  death-rate  of  London  in  all  the  many 
centuries  in  which  the  standard  language  was  taking 
shape  was  something  enormous, — very  far,  indeed, 
beyond  anything  that  modern  conditions  would  be 
likely  to  suggest  to  us.  Supposing  the  mortality  to 
have  remained  the  same,  London  would  have  become 
depopulated  in  any  of  these  centuries  if  it  had  not  been 

1 —  Creighton,  Traill's  Social  England,  III,  p.  145. 

2 —  Creighton,  Traill's  Social  England,  III,  p.  256. 

3—  Creighton,  Traill's  Social  England,  III,  pp.  558-9.  In  1563 
the  total  number  of  deaths  from  all  causes  was  23,660. 

4 —  It  is  well  to  note  that  Creighton  often  puts  the  mortality 
higher  than  the  figures  I  presented  in  my  paper  last  year. 

5 —  Creighton,  Traill's  Social  England,  IV,  p.  470;  and  Britan- 
nica,  article  "London." 


394 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


supplied  with  people  from  without.  There  is  no  evi- 
dence that  there  was  any  danger  of  any  such  fate 
happening  to  it.  Instead,  the  city  has  grown  so  many 
fold  since  Chaucer's  time  that  it  is  difficult  to  realize 
what  the  figures  mean.  It  will  not  be  necessary  for 
me  to  present  any  array  of  statistics  to  justify  the  state- 
ment. All  know  that  London  has  grown  enormously, 
and  that  it  is  composed  in  part  of  a  foreign-born  popu- 
lation. It  is  the  extent  of  this  extraneous  population 
that  I  have  been  trying  to  emphasize. 

We  think  of  our  own  nation  and  of  other  new 
countries  as  peculiarly  the  product  of  race  mixture. 
That  is  largely  because  it  is  so  hard  for  foreigners  to 
get  to  our  shores  that  we  can  easily  number  and 
classify  them  as  they  come.  Now  as  a  matter  of  fact 
statistics  would  seem  to  show  that  the  ratio  of  for- 
eign-born to  native-born  is  ever  so  much  higher  for 
London  than  for  America.  It  is  such  an  easy  matter 
for  Englishmen  to  slip  into  London  that  it  is  hard  for 
anyone  to  realize  how  many  do  it.  The  number  is 
surprisingly  large.  The  result  is,  and  that  is  one  of 
my  main  points,  most  people  do  not  realize  how  hetero- 
geneous London  has  been  in  the  past.  And  further- 
more, no  matter  how  much  all  the  residents  may  have 
desired  the  contrary,  there  can  have  been  no  time  when 
there  was  a  uniform  spoken  tongue  common  to  all  the 
people  in  the  city.  To  be  sure,  there  has  been  in  all 
periods  an  attempted  approximation  to  such  a  norm, 
but  the  norm  itself  has  been  theoretical  rather  than 
actual.  Now  I  am  led  to  this  conclusion  not  only  by 
the  statistics  hitherto  presented,  but  also  by  a  mono- 
graph that  was  indeed  intended  to  lead  its  readers  in 
just  the  opposite  direction.  I  refer  to  Dr.  Morsbach's 
very  able  treatment   of  the   origin   of  the  standard 


LANGUAGE  AND  LONDON  POPULATION  395 


language.1  This  book  seeks  to  prove  that  it  has  not 
been  any  one  author  or  group  of  authors,  such  as 
Chaucer,  or  Wyclif,  that  has  created  for  us  our  literary 
language,  but  rather  the  latter  owes  its  origin  and  the 
whole  course  of  its  development  to  the  work  of  the 
London  dialect.  An  analysis  of  documents  written  in 
London  by  Londoners  from  1380  on  for  fifty  years 
proves  this  conclusion,  so  Prof.  Morsbach  thinks, 
beyond  question.  As  I  have  said,  this  is  a  very  able 
monograph,  and  one  could  hardly  wish  to  find  fault 
with  its  methods.  They  are  rigidly  scientific  and  they 
are  carried  out  with  admirable  thoroughness  and  con- 
sistency. The  conclusions,  too,  are  very  sane,  and  one 
can  accept  all  or  most  of  them  precisely  as  stated.  And 
yet  I  cannot  feel  that  the  work  entirely  explains  the 
origin  and  evolution  of  our  standard  language.  Like 
the  explanation  of  the  origin  as  due  to  a  single  author, 
Morsbach 's  solution  is  too  easy. 

The  treatment,  I  think,  underestimated  the  influence 
of  literary  models.  Not  a  single  document  of  any 
literary  value  is  mentioned  as  representative  of  the 
speech  of  London.  Literature  shows  too  much  dialect 
mixture.  But  I  think  it  is  a  false  uniformity  that 
Morsbach  has  attempted  to  make  for  his  London  dia- 
lect. By  the  strict  application  of  a  number  of  rigid 
tests,  only  those  documents  that  were  composed  by 
Londoners  and  written  by  London  scribes  are  allowed 
to  stand  as  representative,  but  this  very  process  of  ex- 
clusion throws  out  one  of  the  most  essential  factors  of 
London  speech,  a  factor  without  which  it  is.  very 
difficult  to  explain  how  it  is  that  London  has  been 
continually  shifting  from  the   southern  toward  the 


1 — Morsbach:  Ueber  den  ursprung  der  neuenglischen  schrift- 
sprache.    Heilbroun,  1888. 


396 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


northern  dialect.  There  were  many  times  in  the  history 
of  the  city  when  the  foreign-born  citizens  greatly  out- 
numbered the  native-born,  and  so,  surely,  it  was  not  the 
latter  class  that  had  any  monopoly  of  the  writing  and 
talking.  To  leave  out  either  part  of  the  inhabitants 
gives  us  an  unfair  picture  of  the  actual  conditions.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  even  after  all  this  process  of  exclusion, 
there  is  no  absolute  uniformity  in  the  survivals.  Not 
only  do  his  three  classes  of  writings,  townsmen's,  the 
state,  and  the  parliamentary  documents,  fail  to  agree 
with  each  other,  but  each  class  within  itself  shows  con- 
siderable variations,  and  even  single  documents  are 
often  very  far  from  being  consistent.  And  lastly,  this 
Staats  and  Parlaments-TJrhunden  are  better  representa- 
tives of  the  trend  of  the  standard  language  than  are 
the  works  of  the  chosen  townsmen  themselves. 

Furthermore,  I  am  still  somewhat  uncertain,  though 
I  have  gone  through  the  monograph  carefully,  as  to 
just  what  was  the  part  played  by  London  in  spreading 
and  making  uniform  our  literary  language.  I  am 
inclined  myself  to  give  more  weight  to  literary  models 
than  does  Prof.  Morsbach.  I  think  it  is  clear  that  no 
one  but  the  parties  immediately  concerned  would  ever 
read  the  documents  utilized  by  the  Professor  unless  he 
had  to,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  ideas  in  literary 
masterpieces  have  influenced  generation  after  generation, 
and  why  should  not  the  language  also  have  had  some  of 
this  same  influencing  power  ? 

With  this  idea  in  mind  it  occurred  to  me  to  make 
&  test  as  to  the  birthplace  and  early  home  of  the  chief 
writers  of  our  standard  literature.  For  this  purpose  I 
took  the  names  given  in  Chambers 's  Encyclopedia  of  Eng- 
lish Literature  from  the  time  of  Chaucer  to  1650.  The 
results  are  not  entirely  trustworthy,  because  our  inf  orma- 


LANGUAGE  AND  LONDON  POPULATION  397 


tion  concerning  many  of  the  writers  is  untrustworthy. 
Of  the  144  names  about  which  I  could  find  any  definite 
biographical  information,  only  about  one-fourth  were  of 
men  born  in  London.  Of  these  same  writers  only  about 
one-fifth  were  not  educated  in  Oxford  or  Cambridge. 
Many  never  made  London  their  home.  Surely  the 
metropolis  did  not  have  any  great  direct  influence  on 
these  men.  But  when  we  think  of  the  influence  of  their 
literature  and  then  add  to  it  the  influence  exerted  by 
the  clergymen  and  tutors  and  schoolmasters  sent  out 
from  the  universities,  may  we  not  well  ask  the  question^ 
Have  not  the  universities  also  had  a  very  large  share  in 
the  work  of  normalizing  and  standardizing  of  our 
speech  ?  If  we  agree  that  they  have,  that  need  not  com- 
pel us  to  think  they  have  counteracted  the  influence  of 
London.  Oxford  and  Cambridge  were  like  the  metropolis 
in  being  composed  of  a  very  heterogeneous  population,, 
and  conditions  in  all  three  places  were  probably  enough 
alike  to  give  similar  results.  All  three  may  have  worked 
together. 

There  are  many  other  cognate  problems  that  are 
naturally  suggested  by  our  general  subject,  but  time 
limits  forbid  us  to  enter  on  the  discussion  of  any  of 
them.  It  must  suffice  us  to  say  that  the  standardizing  of 
our  speech  has  been  a  very  complex  process,  into  which 
many  separate  factors  have  entered.  It  is  necessary  in 
a  complete  treatment  to  consider  both  the  written  and 
the  spoken  language  and  the  influence  of  each  upon  the 
other.  Also,  the  problems  of  dissemination  might  well 
occupy  our  attention.  Work  in  standardizing  the  speech 
must  have  gone  on  in  many  parts  of  England  at  the 
same  time,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  London  was 
only  one  of  the  chief  centers  of  crystallization.  But 
however  that  may  be,  I  think  it  safe  to  affirm  that  Lon- 


398 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


don  has  not  changed  its  language  in  order  that  it  might 
thereby  the  more  easily  impose  it  upon  the  rest  of  Eng- 
land, but  rather  that  the  continual  shift  only  mirrors  the 
state  of  affairs  at  the  capital,  where  in  many  periods  the 
majority  of  the  speakers  were  of  alien  birth. 


THE  THRYMSKWITHA 


DEDICATED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  LATE  PROFESSOR  G.  A. 
HENCH,  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  MICHIGAN. 

[The  Thrymskwitha  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  Eddie 
poems.  It  is  the  dramatic  story  of  how  Thor,  aided 
by  Loki,  got  back  his  famous  hammer.  Thrym  had 
stolen  it,  and  he  would  not  give  it  up  until  they  would 
bring  him  Freyja  to  wife;  but  she  very  indignantly  re- 
fused to  get  married  under  any  such  terms.  It  is  finally 
arranged,  though  much  against  his  will,  that  Thor  him- 
self must  dress  up  to  impersonate  Freyja,  and  go  up  to 
get  married  to  the  giant  Thrym.  The  latter  half  of  the 
poem  contains  the  carrying  out  of  this  plan.  But  Thor 
is  the  great  thunder-god.  He  is  the  largest  and  strongest 
of  them  all,  and  a  ravenous  eater  and  drinker.  The 
story  is  elsewhere  told  of  him  that  once,  in  a  drinking 
contest,  he  lowered  the  sea  several  inches.  It  is  he  alone 
that  was  not  allowed  to  walk  over  the  bridge  of  the  rain- 
bow for  fear  he  might  break  it  down.  What  could  be 
more  incongruous  and  ludicrous,  then,  than  to  have 
this  great  clumsy  god  dress  up  as  Freyja,  the  fairest  of 
the  goddesses,  and  to  go  off  in  her  name  to  marry  the 
ice-giant  Thrym!  The  Norse  poet  has  made  good  use 
of  his  opportunities,  and  we  have  in  this  poem  a  master- 
piece of  its  kind. 

There  have  been  several  translations  of  the  Thrymsk- 
witha, but  none  of  them  are  very  accessible;  and,  of 
those  that  the  writer  has  seen,  none  have  tried  to  pre- 
serve the  alliterative  form.      In  this  translation  the 


399 


400 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


attempt  has  been  made  to  reproduce,  as  far  as  is  possible, 
the  ideas,  the  form,  and  the  spirit  of  the  original  poem; 
and,  having  attempted  so  much,  the  writer  would  like 
to  beg  indulgence  if  he  sometimes  falls  short  of  his 
ideal.  He  has  been  unable  to  preserve  the  exact  quantita- 
tive character  of  the  original  verse.  Its  short,  choppy 
form  is  not  at  all  adapted  to  modern  English.  The 
brevity  and  simplicity  are  most  difficult  to  imitate.  All 
the  original  crudities  stand  out  more  plainly  in  the 
English,  and  the  pervasive  humor  has  a  tendency  to 
disappear  in  translation. 

With  regard  to  the  metre  it  may  be  said  briefly  that 
there  are  five  different  kinds  of  lines  possible,  and  these 
may  follow  each  other  in  any  order.  They  are: 
/u/u;  u/u/;  u/\  u;  /\u/;  //\  u , —in  which  /  means  a 
heavy  stress  :\,  a  medium  stress,  and  u,  one  or  more 
unstressed  syllables  together.  A  heavy  stress  may  fall  on 
either  one  long  syllable  or  two  short  ones  taken  together. 
Two  lines  make  up  a  complete  verse,  and  one  of  the  two 
stressed  elements  in  the  first  line  must  alliterate  with 
the  first  stressed  element  of  the  second.  The  text  used 
in  the  translation  is  the  one  worked  out  by  Pinnur  Jons- 
son,  one  of  the  foremost  Norse  scholars  of  the  present 
day.  The  brackets  indicate  parts  that  he  thinks  are  not 
original ;  the  dashes,  parts  that  he  thinks  are  lacking. 
The  other  translations  that  the  writer  has  been  able  to 
consult  are  those  by  Cottle,  Thorpe,  Vigfusson,  and 
Powell,  and  a  translation  by  an  unknown  writer  in  the 
Dublin  University  Magazine,  41:578.  These  are  all  in 
English.  He  has  also  consulted  the  German  translation 
by  Hugo  Gering,  and  it  is  to  this  last  work  alone  that 
the  writer  feels  any  real  indebtedness.] 


THE  THRYMSKWITHA 


THE  THRYMSKWITHA. 

1.  Wroth  then  was  Wingthor,1 

awakening, 
To  find  missing 

Miolnir,2  his  hammer. 
He  shook  his  beard 

and  shaggy  head: 
The  son  of  Earth 

sought  how  to  find  it. 

2.  First  of  all  said  he 

the  following  word: 
"Hear  now,  Loki,3 

what  I  tell  you; 
No  one  knows  it, 

nowhere  on  earth 
Nor  up  in  heaven; 

This  Ase's  hammer  is  stolen!" 

3.  Went  they  to  Freyja's4 

fair  abode  then; 
First  of  all  said  he 

the  following  word: 
"Wilt  to  me,  Freyja, 

thy  feathercoat  lend, 
If  my  hammer 

may  be  recovered?" 

4.  Freyja  says : 

"I  should  give  it  thee, 
gold  though  it  were ; 


1—  Thor,  the  thunder-god,  son  of  Odin  and  the  Earth. 

2 —  Miolnir,  Thor  ;s  famous  hammer,  is  one  of  the  chief  protec- 
rions  of  the  gods.  It  never  misses  its  aim,  and  it  always  returns 
to  the  hand  of  the  thrower. 

3 —  The  most  cunning  and  deceitful  of  all  the  gods,  or  Ases. 

4 —  The  goddess  of  the  summer  rains.  Her  feathercoat  is  the 
clouds. 


402 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


You  might  have  it 

even  though  of  silver. ' n 

5.  Flew  then  Loki, 

feathercoat  rustling, 
Until  he  was  out 

of  the  Ases'  court 
[And  was  far  within 

the  Iotons'  home.2] 

On  a  mound  sat  Thrym, 

Thurses'  ruler. 
For  his  greyhounds 

gold  bands  plaiting, 
[And  smooth  the  manes 

of  his  mares  he  combed.] 

6.  Thrym  says : 

"What  ails  the  gods? 

What  ails  the  elves? 
To  the  home  of  the  giants 

why  journey  alone?" 
"Much  ails  the  gods! 

Much  ails  the  elves ! 
Have  you  Hloritha's3 

hammer  hidden?" 

7.  "I  have  Hloritha's 

Hammer  hidden: 
Under  eight  miles4 

of  earth  it  lies, 
And  such  no  one 

shall  see  again 

1 —  This  an  ti -climax  is  in  the  original. 

2 —  The  Iotons  are  the  giants,  sometimes  called  the  Thurses. 
Thrym,  their  ruler,  is  a  winter  giant.  Some  critics  think  that  this 
myth  is  an  attempted  explanation  of  the  fact  that  there  is  no 
thunder  in  the  winter  time,  because  Thrym  has  stolen  Thor's 
hammer. 

3 —  Another  name  for  Thor. 

4 —  According  to  some  critics,  these  correspond  to  the  eight 
months  of  the  northern  winter. 


THE  THRYMSKWITHA 


403 


Save  he  first  bring  me 
Freyja  to  wife !" 

8.  Flew  then  Loki, 

f eathercoat  rustling, 
Until  he  was  out 

of  Iotonheim 
[And'  was  far  within 

the  Ases'  court.] 
Thor  he  met  there 

in  the  midst  of  it. 
First  of  all  said  he 

the  following  word  : 

9.  "Hast  thou  reward 

worth  thy  labor? 
Tell  me  up  in  air 

all  your  tidings. 
Oft  the  sitter 

strays  from  his  subject, 
And  one  lying 

lies  most  easily."1 

10.  "I  have  reward 

worth  my  labor. 
Thrym  has  thy  hammer, 

Thurses'  ruler; 
And  such  no  one 

shall  see  again, 
Save  he  first  bring  him 

Freyja  to  wife." 

11.  They  go  the  fair 

Freyja  to  seek ; 
First  of  all  said  he 

the  following  word : 
"Bind  thyself,  Freyja, 

in  bridal  linen — 


1 — Thor  is  here  the  speaker.  Loki  is  still  up  in  the  air  in  the 
f eathercoat.  If  the  last  lines  contain  a  pun,  it  is  also  to  be  found 
in  the  original.  Thor  is  probably  quoting  here  some  old  Norse 
saw. 


404 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


We  two  must  journey 
to  the  giant's  home." 

12.  Wroth  then  was  Freyja, 

fairly  snorting,1 
The  Ases'  hall 

all  a-shaking; 
[Broke  then  the  famous 

Brisinga  necklace.2] 
' '  Me  wouldst  thou  think 

man-crazy  quite, 
Should  I  journey  with  thee 

to  the  giant's  home." 

13.  Soon  the  Ases 

were  all  at  the  Thing,3 
And  the  Asyniur,4 

all  to  hold  conference. 
On  this  pondered 

the  powerful  gods : 
How  to  recover 

Hloritha's  hammer. 

14.  Then  said  Heimdall,5 

whitest  of  Ases, 
Of  the  future  aware 

as  were  the  Vanir: 
"Let  us  bind  then  Thor 

in  bridal  linen. 
Let  him  bear  the  famed 

Brisinga  necklace. 

15  "And  let  clinking 

keys  hang  from  him, 


1 —  This  is  a  trifle  strong,  but  I  do  not  think  it  an  unfair  transla- 
tion. 

2 —  The  Brisinga  necklace  was  made  by  a  dwarf.  The  story  of 
the  way  in  which  Freyja  earned  it  is  not  very  edifying. 

3 —  The  Assembly.  4 — Goddesses. 

5— Probably  Heimdall  was  the  god  of  the  early  dawn,  and  there- 
fore a  "light"  god,  who  foretold  the  coining  day. 


THE  THRYMSKWITHA  405 


And  female  dress 
fall  round  his  knees, 

And  let  bright1  stones 
his  breast  adorn, 

And  with  much  skill 
make  him  a  head-dress." 

16.  Then-  Thor  replied, 

that  powerful  god: 

2 

"Me  wouldst  all  Ases 

unmanly  call 
If  I  let  you  bind  me 

in  bridal  linen." 

17.  Said  then  Loki, 

son  of  Lanf  ey : 
"Be  silent,  Thor, 

From  such-like  words. 
Soon  will  the  Iotons 

In  Asgard  dwell 
Unless  thy  hammer 

to  thee  is  returned. ' ' 

18.  Bound  they  Thor  then 

in  bridal  linen, 
Had  him  bear  the  famed 
Brisinga  necklace. 

#    *  # 

19.  And  let  clinking 

keys  hang  from  him, 
And  female  dress 

fall  round  his  knees, 
And  let  bright  stones 

his  breast  adorn, 
And  with  much  skill 

made  him  a  head-dress. 


1 —  The  original  reads  cc  broad"  stones. 

2 —  Is  this  an  editor's  joke  at  the  expense  of  Thor? 


406 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


20.  Said  then  Loki, 
son  of  Lanfey: 

"I'll  also  go 
To  act  as  maid; 
We  two  girls  journey 

to  the  giant's  home." 

21.  Directly  the  goats1  then 
were  driven  home, 

Thrust  into  harness  — 
they  had  to  run  well. 
Mountains  broke  open, 
the  earth  was  aglow. 
Into  Iotonheim 
went  Odin's  son. 

Then  did  Thrym  say, 

Thurses'  ruler: 
"Stand  up,  Iotons, 

strew  the  benches. 
Now  they  fetch  me 

Freyja  to  wife, 
Niord's  daughter 
of  Noatun. 

23.  "Gold-horned  cows2 

for  the  court  prepare; 
All-black  oxen 

for  the  Ioton's  feast. 
I  own  many  jewels, 

I  own  many  gems: 
I  seemed  lacking 

alone  in  Freyja.", 

24.  Early  did  there 

the  evening  come, 

1 —  Thor  either  walked  or  drove  in  a  wagon  drawn  by  two  goats. 

2 —  The  cattle  of  the  gods  and  giants  are  in  several  places  men- 
tioned as  gold-horned. 


22. 


THE  THRYMSKWITHA 


407 


And  for  the  Iotons 

ale  was  brought  forward. 
Thor  ate  an  ox 

and  eight  salmon, 
[All  the  tidbits 

intended  for  women.] 
Lif 's  husband1  drank 

three  hogsheads  of  mead. 

25.  Then  did  Thrym  say, 

Thurses'  ruler: 
' '  Didst  e  'er;  see  a  bride 

That  seemed  so  greedy? 
I  ne'er  looked  on  one 

with  so  large  a  mouth, 
Nor  on  a  maid 

that  more  mead  drank." 

26.  Sat  a  crafty 

serving-maid2  there, 
That  found  answer 

to  the  Ioton 's  speech : 
"Freyja  has  not  eaten 

for  eight  long  nights, 
So  much  she  yearned 

for  Iotonheim." 

27.  Thrym  stooped;  under  her  veil 

he  sought  to  kiss, 
-  And  then  sprang  back 
•    the  breadth  of  the  hall. 
"Why  so  frightful 

are  Freyja's  eyes? 
I  believe  they  look 
like  burning  coals." 

28.  Sat  a  crafty 

serving-maid  there, 
That  found  answer 
to  the  Ioton 's  speech: 


1—  Thor. 

2 —  Loki.    He  was  always  practising  deceit. 


408 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


"Freyja  has  not  once  slept 
for  eight  long  nights, 

So  much  she  yearned 
for  Iotonheim. " 

29.  In  came  the  giants' 

joyless  sister. 
She  dared  to  beg 

a  bridal  gift. 
"  Grant  me  the  ruddy 

rings  on  your  hands. 
If  you  would  merit 

my  good  wishes. 
[My  good  wishes, 

my  whole  affection.] 

30.  Then  did  Thrym  say, 

Thurses '  ruler : 
".To  gain  the  bride, 

bear  in  the  hammer. 
Lay  now  Miolnir 

in  the  maiden's  lap. 
Make  us  husband  and  wife 

by  the  hand  of  Var."1 

31.  Laughed  the  heart  in 

Hloritha's  breast 
As  the  bold-hearted  one 

his  hammer  saw. 
Thrym  he  slew  first, 

Thurses'  ruler, 
And  the  giants'  kindred, 

killed  were  they  all. 

32.  Slew  he  the  giants' 

joyless  sister, 
Who  had  begged  of  him 

a  bridal  gift. 
She  a  stroke  got 

instead  of  shillings. 


1 — Goddess  of  marriage. 


THE  THRYMSKWITHA 

A  stroke  of  the  hammer 

instead  of  rings. 
[Thus  again  Thor  got 

his  hammer.] 


ON  THE  CONSERVATISM  OF  LANGUAGE  IN  A 
NEW  COUNTRY. 

I CANNOT  begin  this  discussion  more  appropriately 
than  by  quoting  a  well-known  paragraph  from 
Ellis's  Early  English  Pronunciation.    In  Part  I, 
page  19,  he  says : — 

"The  results  of  emigration  and  immigration  are 
curious  and  important.  By  emigration  is  here  specially 
meant  the  separation  of  a  considerable  body  of  the  in- 
habitants of  a  country  from  the  main  mass,  without 
incorporating  itself  with  another  nation.  Thus  the  Eng- 
lish in  America  have  not  mixed  with  the  natives,  and  the 
Norse  in  Iceland  had  no  natives  to  mix  with.  In  this 
case  there  is  a  kind  of  arrest  of  development;  the  lan- 
guage of  the  emigrants  remains  for  a  long  time  in  the 
stage  at  which  it  was  when  emigration  took  place,  and 
alters  more  slowly  than  the  mother  tongue,  and  in  a 
different  direction.  Practically  the  speech  of  the  Ameri- 
can English  is  archaic  with  respect  to  that  of  the  British 
English,  and  while  the  Icelandic  scarcely  differs  from 
the  old  Norse,  the  latter  has,  since  the  colonization  of 
Iceland,  split  up  on  the  mainland  into  two  distinct 
literary  tongues,  the  Danisn  and  Swedish.  Nay,  even 
the  Irish  English  exhibits  in  many  points  the  peculiari- 
ties of  the  pronunciation  of  the  xvnth  century. ' ' 

This  paragraph  was  published  as  long  ago  as  1869,  and 
it  would  be  hardly  fair  to  Mr.  Ellis  to  hold  him  strictly 
responsible  now  for  all  it  contains.  Nevertheless  the 
paragraph  still  expresses  a  widely  accepted  theory.  It 
is  a  belief  among  many  scholars  that  the  language  of  a 
colony  is  almost  always  more  conservative  than  that  of 


410 


LANGUAGE  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  411 


its  mother  country,  and  that  this  conservatism  is  in 
some  way  connected  with  the  fact  of  emigration. 

A  good  illustration  of  this  point  of  view  is  to  be 
found  at  the  end  of  Professor  Emerson's  careful  study  of 
the  Ithaca  Dialect.1  Professor  Emerson  there  quotes 
the  above  paragraph  from  Ellis,  and,  though  he  refuses 
to  subscribe  to  all  it  contains,  he  says  with  reference  to 
his  own  investigations,  that :  ' 'At.  least,  in  the  absence 
of  any  other  assignable  cause,  it  may  be  stated  with 
assurance,  that  the  older  forms  of  speech  in  IthD.  are 
due  to  conditions  attending  isolation  from  the  mother 
country  by  emigration."  And  immediately  after  he 
states  positively  as  two  of  his  three  conclusions,  that: — 

"1.  The  dialect  of  Ithaca  represents,  in  comparison 
with  standard  English,  a  dialect  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, with  certain  peculiarities  usually  attributed  to 
the  seventeenth  century. 

"2.  This  arrested  development  is  due  to  emigration 
and  separation  from  the  mother  country. ' ' 

Perhaps  few  have  been  as  outspoken  as  Professor 
Emerson  is  here,  but  there  have  been  many  scholars 
who  have  given  more  or  less  willing  assent  to  the  theory. 
Numerous  writers  on  Hibernianisms,  Americanisms,  and 
American  dialects  have  made  much  of  the  essentially 
archaic  nature  of  the  language  they  treat.  We  have  all 
heard  about  the  wonderful  purity  of  colonial  languages. 
I  know  that  I  have  been  told  not  only  that  American 
English  is  purer  than  British  English,  but  much  more 
than  that, — and  this  probably  through  the  local  patriot- 
ism of  some  school-teacher, — that  the  western  Americans 
speak  much  better  English  than  our  cousins  in  the  east- 


1 — Dialect  Notes,  I,  pp.  85  ff.,  espec.  173.  For  another  illus- 
tration, concerning  Irish  English,  cf.  Academy,  vol.  LXI,  p.  291  f. 
Other  illustrations  might  be  cited. 


412 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ern  part  of  the  United  States.  I  wish  it  understood  that 
I  am  not  at  present  advocating  this  last  bit  of  doctrine,, 
and  yet,  if  by  " better"  is  only  meant  "more  conserva- 
tive," do  we  have  here  anything  more  than  the  logical 
conclusion  for  the  emigration  theory?  True,  archaisms 
are  always  startling,  and  when  we  find  that  many  of 
our  common  American  words  are  survivals  of  older  Eng- 
lish words  that  have  died  out  in  England,  it  is  no  wonder 
if  we  are  led  sometimes  to  the  conclusion  that  we,  who 
speak  the  emigrant  language,  and  not  the  English,  are 
the  true  successors  of  Shakespeare,  Dryden,  Pope,  and 
the  other  great  literary  men  of  the  seventeenth  and  eigh- 
teenth centuries. 

But  now  what  is  the  truth  of  this  matter  ?  Is  emigra- 
tion in  itself  a  conservative  force?  Do  we  in  America 
speak  a  more  archaic  language  than  the  people  of  Eng- 
land, and  if  we  do,  or  if  we  have  dialects  that  do.  are 
there  not  other  possible  causes  sufficient  to  account  for 
the  conservatism?  It  is  with  such  questions  as  these 
that  this  paper  is  concerned.  The  treatment  is  neces- 
sarily far  from  exhaustive.  There  is  not  enough  material 
yet  at  hand  for  a  thorough  study,  and  besides  I  do  not 
pretend  to  have  read  everything  that  might  be  brought 
to  bear  on  the  subject.  Nevertheless,  I  think  I  have  got 
together  enough  facts  to  justify  at  least  a  few  definite 
conclusions. 

On  general  principles  we  should  not  expect  to  find  in 
emigration  a  conservative  force.  We  all  know,  when  we 
stop  to  consider,  that  the  phrases  ' '  living  language ' '  and 
"dead  language"  are  merely  figures  of  speech.  In  actual 
fact,  of  course,  it  is  utterly  impossible  that  a  language 
should  have  any  real  life  of  its  own  and  consequently 
any  death.  If  we  wish  for  convenience  to  attribute  to 
it  a  borrowed  life,  that  is  a  different  matter.     But  it 


LANGUAGE  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  413 


should  never  be  forgotten  that  language  is  no  more 
alive  than  the  steam-engine,  or  the  silk-loom,  or  than 
any  other  artfully  constructed  instrument.  Language 
is  a  tool.  It  can  do  nothing — not  even  to  reproduce  or 
maintain  itself— except  through  the  agency  of  man. 
The  latter  is  the  all-important  factor,  and  language  is 
always  secondary  to  him  and  to  his  environment.  If 
this  be  true,  and  I  think  all  must  agree  with  me  that  it 
is,  this  secondariness  ought  to  be  reflected  in  speech 
differentiation.  Not  only  should  every  language  be 
characteristic  of  the  people  who  have  developed  it  and 
of  the  land  they  live  in,  but  changes  in  land  or  people 
should  find  parallel  changes  in  the  language  itself. 
Furthermore,  if  a  language  is  imported  into  a  new 
country  or  to  a  new  people,  we  should  expect  that  it 
would  immediately  begin  to  adjust  itself  to  its  new 
surroundings — that  is,  to  a  new  order  of  development. 
So  I  repeat  that  on  general  principles  we  should  not 
expect  to  find  in  emigration  a  conservative  force. 
Other  things  being  equal,  a  colonial  language  ought  to 
change  more  than  the  speech  in  the  mother  country. 

On  general  principles  also,  we  should  infer  that  the 
changes  in  a  colonial  language  are  likely  to  be  of  a 
different  nature  from  those  in  the  mother  country. 
For  this  phase  of  the  emigration  theory  Ellis's  state- 
ment, quoted  above,  seems  entirely  reasonable.  In  the 
new  land  the  speech  is  likely  to  be  subjected  to  a 
changed  environment.  Thus,  there  may  be  a  different 
climate,  a  different  flora  and  fauna,  and  the  necessity 
of  a  different  mode  of  life.  There  may  be  also  another 
people  to  contend  with,  having  probably  a  different 
civilization  and  language.  It  is  evident  that  if  many  of 
these  conditions  of  the  new  environment  are  unlike  those 
of  the  parent  home,  the  language  cannot  go  on  develop- 


414 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ing  in  the  old  way.  The  old  needs  and  impulses  for 
-change  will  be  gone  and  new  needs  will  have  taken  their 
places.  Unless,  then,  conditions  happen  to  be  very 
similar  in  the  two  countries  and  unless  there  is  extensive 
intercourse  maintained,  the  languages  of  mother-land  and 
colony  are  likely — nay,  sure — to  alter  in  divergent  direc- 
tions. But  now,  it  is  only  a  small  part  of  a  language 
that  changes  at  any  one  time.  In  so  far  as  is  consistent 
with  developing  conditions,  it  is  the  ideal  of  language 
to  be  conservative,  for  it  is  through  conservatism  that  a 
language  best  fulfills  its  office  as  an  instrument  of  com- 
munication. It  is  likely,  therefore,  that  the  field  in 
which  the  mother-tongue  does  its  changing  may  remain 
almost  unaltered  in  the  colony,  and  the  colonial  language 
in  its  turn  may  change  in  parts  which  in  the  mother- 
land remain  quite  conservative.  The  result  is  that  each 
-country  is  likely  to  present  both  innovations  and  sur- 
vivals peculiar  to  itself. 

Now  in  this  matter  we  do  not  have  to  rest  content  with 
mere  theory.  These  statements  are  amply  supported  by 
facts.  Thus,  it  will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Ellis  was 
-careful  to  limit  his  remark  about  the  language  of  Ire- 
land. His  words  were  that  it  "exhibits  in  many  points 
the  peculiarities  of  the  pronunciation  of  the  seventeenth 
century."  This  is  no  doubt  true,  and  it  is  not  only  in 
pronunciation  but  also  in  vocabulary  that  Irish  is  in 
many  points  archaic.  The  fact  has  been  emphasized  by 
many  writers,  but  that  is  a  very  different  thing,  of 
course,  from  identifying  modern  Irish — even  of  a  few 
generations  ago — with  pure  seventeenth  century  Eng- 
lish. It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  competent  scholar  who 
would  do  the  latter.  Mr.  W.  H.  Patterson  in  the  intro- 
duction to  his  Glossary  of  Words  in  Use  in  the  Counties 


LANGUAGE  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  415 


i>/  Antrim  and  Down1  is  careful  to  state  that :  ' '  The 
forms  of  the  words  may  vary  somewhat,  because  they 
naturally  underwent  changes  consequent  upon  the  lapse 
of  time  since  their  introduction  to  an  alien  soil.  In 
many  cases  it  was  a  difficulty  how  to  spell  the  words, 
because  I  only  had  them  as  sounded,  and  the  difficulty 
was  increased  when  I  frequently  found  the  same  word 
was  pronounced  in  two  or  more  ways  by  different  per- 
sons, either  natives  of  different  districts,  or  persons 
whose  mode  of  speaking  had  been  influenced  by  different 
surroundings  or  by  more  or  less  of  education."  He 
further  adds  that  "in  some  districts  in  the  east  of  the 
two  counties  the  people  still  talk  a  Scotch  dialect,  but 
with  a  modified  Scotch  accent. ' ' 

But  Ellis  himself,  farther  on  in  his  Early  English 
Pronunciation,2  gives  sufficient  material  to  show  that 
Irish  English  contains  both  archaisms  and  innovations. 
Thus  in  just  one  paragraph  of  Irish  speech  quoted  by 
him  from  Mr.  Graves  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the  Kilkenny 
English  of  the  last  century,  we  find  many  archaic  sur- 
vivals side  by  side  with  as  many  altered  forms.  Thus 
with  the  archaic  clane,3  dacent,  faver,  and  baaste  are 
found  depind,  River ence,  yistherday,  hins,  and  gintle- 
man.  In  childhre,  which  illustrates  an  archaic  plural, 
we  have  the  peculiar  Irish  dental-plus-r,  found  also  in 
dhrop  and  dhry,  and  in  crathers,  inthered,  and  wather. 
Potatoes  is  pronounced  pyates.  Along  with  archaic 
meanings  for  clean  and  likely  we  have  introduced  the 
Irish  word  colleen  for  girl.  Now  the  illustrations  here 
given  do  not  exhaust  the  material  of  this  single  para- 


1—  Eng.  Dial.  Soc,  Vol.  VII,  p.  8. 

2—  Part  IV,  p.  1233. 

3 —  The  spelling  is  that  found  in  Ellis. 


416 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


graph,  but  if  we  wish  to  leave  it  and  go  on  to  the  word 
lists  that  follow,  we  shall  find  that  Ellis  offers  still  more 
material  in  confirmation  of  our  general  proposition. 
The  English  language  in  Ireland  contains  both  archa- 
isms and  innovations. 

Dr.  Sweet  in  his  History  of  Language  (p.  89)  states 
the  same  conclusion  for  modern  Icelandic.  You  may 
remember  that  Ellis  in  the  paragraph  first  quoted  made 
the  statement  that  Icelandic  scarcely  differs  from  Old 
Norse.  If  this  were  true,  it  would  not  be  such  a  very 
strange  phenomenon.  Iceland  is  so  cut  off  from  the 
activities  of  the  rest  of  the  world  that  we  need  not  ex- 
pect its  language  to  change  very  much.  But  it  would 
seem  according  to  Sweet  that  Icelandic  has  changed 
more  than  Ellis  suspected.    Sweet  says : — 

"We  have  in  Modern  Icelandic  an  instructive  in- 
stance of  the  conflict  between  the  two  factors  of  con- 
servatism in  life  and  absence  of  foreign  influence  on 
the  one  hand  and  complete  isolation  from  direct  contact 
with  cognate  languages  on  the  other.  The  result  is 
that  the  language,  instead  of  developing  in  an  analyti- 
cal direction  similar  to  that  of  its  immediate  cognates, 
Norwegian,  Danish,  and  Swedish,  has  preserved  its  old 
inflectional  system  absolutely  unimpaired  on  the 
whole,  although  with  frequent  modifications  of  detail. 
.  .  .  .  But  the  sounds  of  Modern  Icelandic  have 
undergone  the  most  fantastic  changes  through  the 
want  of  control  by  cognate  languages.  Thus  a  has 
become  (an),  and  an  itself  has  become  (cei),  the  front- 
round  y  has  been  levelled  under  %,  and  so  on,  while  in 
the  other  Scandinavian  languages  it  has  been  kept 
distinct  from  i,  and  a  has  merely  been  rounded  into  a 


LANGUAGE  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  417 


variety  of  (do)  without  any  further  exaggeration. 
Icelandic,  in  fact,  as  regards  its  sounds,  behaves  like  an 
adult  whose  speech  by  deafness  has  been  isolated  from 
the  control  of  his  fellow-speakers.  It  is  curious  to  ob- 
serve that  the  island-Portuguese  of  the  Azores  shows  a 
curious  change  of  long  vowels  into  diphthongs  equally 
opposed  to  the  tendencies  of  the  continental  mother- 
language.  ' n 

Other  colonial  languages,  in  so  far  as  I  have  been  able 
to  learn  about  them,  seem  to  illustrate  our  position 
equally  well.  I  know  almost  nothing  about  Australian 
English.  I  presume  it  contains  numerous  archaisms, 
but  I  am  not  sure.  I  do  know,  however,  that  it  has  many 
neologisms.  There  is  even  a  dictionary  of  over  500  pages 
on  Austral  English,  and  though  the  size  of  this  book 
may  be  no  fair  index  of  the  number  of  new  words  in  the 
colonial  language,  the  number  is  certainly  not  small.  I 
am  acquainted  with  the  book  only  through  a  review  in 
the  Nation,2  and  this  in  its  treatment  lays  emphasis  on 
the  new  words  rather  than  on  the  survivals.  With 
reference  to  the  English  contingent  of  the  special  vocabu- 
lary the  reviewer  says  that  it  ' '  includes,  naturally,  some 
novel  formations ;  but  far  more  numerous  are  the  ex- 
amples of  familiar  words  in  unfamiliar  senses.  The  old 
system  of  penal  transportation,  the  mad  days  of  the  gold 
'rushes,'  the  growth  of  sheep  and  cattle  raising,  the 
rowdy  life  of  city  idlers,  the  agrarian  difficulties,  the 
development  of  autonomy  through  political  strife  of 
peculiar  and  complex  bitterness — all  have  left  their  im- 
press on  the  language  of  the  colonists."     Surely  this 


1 —  Cf.  also  Larsen,  Jour,  of  Eng.  and  Germ.  Philol.  VI,  pp.  99ff. 

2 —  Nation,  Vol.  LXII,  pp.  169  f.,  Austral  English:  A  Diction- 
ary of  Australasian  Words,  Phrases,  and  Useages.  By  Prof.  E.  B. 
Morris.  Macmillan. 


418 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


does  not  tend  to  show  that  Australian  English  is  archaic 
or  conservative.1 

Let  us  turn  now  to  America.  I  think  we  shall  find 
among  the  various  colonial  languages  of  this  continent 
similar  conditions.  Let  us  begin  with  the  French- 
Canadian  language,  which  has  received  considerable 
attention.  The  published  results  of  the  investigation  of 
such  men  as  Professors  Elliott,  Sheldon,  Chamberlain, 
and  Geddes  seem  to  give  ample  warrant  for  our  general 
proposition.  The  French  language  in  Canada  has  been 
both  progressive  and  conservative.  Professor  Elliott  in 
one  of  his  articles2  on  Canadian  French  points  out 
clearly  that  the  circumstances  in  which  the  new  settlers 
were  placed  were  sufficient  to  produce  important  changes 
in  their  language,  and  to  bring  about  the  Ausgleichung 
of  grammar-forms  and  intermixture  of  phonetic  ele- 
ments which  are  found  today  in  the  Canadian  language, 
common  in  all  essential  particulars  to  the  provinces  of 
the  Dominion,  wherever  French  is  spoken.  And  Pro- 
fessor Chamberlain  has  stated  our  position  precisely  in 
his  article  on  The  Life  and  Growth  of  Words  in  the 
French  Dialect  of  Canada?   He  says : — 

"No  portion  of  the  study  of  Canadian-French  life 
and  history  can  be  more  of  interest  than  the  investiga- 
tion of  the  changes  which  their  speech  has  undergone 
in  the  course  of  more  than  three  centuries  of  varied 
progress  and  development.    .    .    .    Nowhere,  perhaps, 

1 —  Leutzner,  in  Englische  Studien,  XT,  173  f.,  published  a  note 
in  which  he  quoted  three  passages  from  Fronde's  Oceana  (1896)  to 
show  that  English  is  spoken  in  Australia  absolutely  without  pro- 
vincialism. This  does  not  prove  conservatism,  however,  but  rather 
a  leveling  of  dialectical  forms.  Similar  statements  are  quoted  by 
Elliott  for  early  Canadian  French. 

2—  Amer.  Jour,  of  Philol,  Vol.  VII,  pp.  14]  ff.  Cf.  also  Prof. 
Elliott's  article  in  Vol.  X  (pp.  133  ff.)  of  the  Journal. 

3—  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  Vol.  IX.  cols.  7S  ff. 


LANGUAGE  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  419 


are  these  laws  of  the  life  and  growth  of  verbal  signifi- 
cations better  illustrated  than  in  French-speaking 
Canada;  nowhere  else,  indeed,  has  the  necessity  for 
modification  been  greater.  .  .  .  [He  then  mentions 
some  of  the  circumstances  that  necessitated  change. 
As  a  result]  their  sprachgefuhl  was  quickened  and 
called  again  to  life,  new  words  arose  and  old  ones 
clothed  themselves  in  meanings  they  had  never  had 
before,  while  Old  French  words,  preserved  by  the  con- 
servatism of  agriculture  or  of  religion,  linger  still  be- 
neath the  shadow  of  Cape  Diamond  or  in  the  valley  of 
the  Gatineau,  long  after  the  French  Academy  has 
•ceased  to  include  them  in  its  great  dictionary." 

Similar  conclusions,  if  I  mistake  not,  can  be  reached 
for  Pennsylvania  German,  if  one  studies  the  valuable 
series  of  articles1  on  that  dialect  published  by  Professor 
Learned.  Pennsylvania  German  has  perpetuated  in 
their  pristine  vigor  the  characteristics  of  its  venerable 
European  ancestor,  the  Rhine  Frankish.  Nevertheless, 
this  colonial  language  has  imdergone  change  not  only 
in  vocabulary  but  also  in  phonology  and.  syntax. 

And  now  last  of  all  I  think  we  may  urge  the  same 
generalizations  for  American  English.  I  have  no  need 
to  inform  you  that  a  large  number  of  Americanisms 
are  merely  survivals  of  older  English  words  that  have 
died  out  in  the  mother  country — this  fact  has  been 
emphasized  too  often — but  perhaps  it  would  not  be 
nearly  so  trite  if  I  made  the  same  statement  for 
Briticisms.  I  think  we  have  laid  too  much  stress  on 
the  archaisms  in  American  English.  In  cultivated 
American  speech  the  special  archaic  forms  are  not 
nearly  so  numerous  as  the  neologistic.  Many  of  our 
archaisms  are  merely  vulgarisms  or  limited  provincial- 

1— Amer.  Jour,  of  Philol.,  Vols.  IX  and  X. 


420 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


isms,  and  are  to  be  found  with  a  similar  status  in  parts 
of  England.  In  some  cases  the  words  have  never  been 
anything  but  vulgarisms  or  provincialisms  in  either 
country.  I  have  never  met  with  an  attempt  anywhere 
to  show  that  cultivated  British  English  is  archaic  with 
respect  to  American  English,  but  really  I  think  about 
as  good  a  case  could  be  made  out  for  the  one  country 
as  for  the  other.  Consider,  for  example,  what  a  large 
number  of  names  for  officers  and  parts  of  the  govern- 
ment from  the  king  to  the  bailiff  and  Parliament  to 
Assize  Court  have  survived  in  England  but  have  been 
displaced  in  America.  Such  a  long  list,  however,  is  too 
easy  proof — it  seems  like  begging  the  question.  Let  us 
choose  a  few  more  isolated  Briticisms  to  illustrate  the 
point. 

The  word  fruiterer  has  interested  me.  I  saw  it  for 
the  first  time  in  England.  It  struck  me  then  as  a 
monstrous  malformation  and  I  supposed  it  had  been 
recently  introduced  by  ignorant  people.  In  my  own 
superior  ignorance  I  felt  toward  the  word  as  many  an 
Englishman  has  felt  toward  some  of  our  archaisms. 
Great  was  my  surprise,  therefore,  to  discover  in  the 
New  English  Dictionary  that  the  earliest  recorded  case 
for  this  word  is  dated  1408,  and  that  we  also  find  the 
word  used  by  Shakespeare.  But  now  along  with  fruiterer 
may  be  mentioned  several  other  words,  with  lengthy 
pedigrees,  expressing  names  of  occupations.  Thus 
draper,  mercer,  coster  monger,  and  poulterer  have  been 
in  the  language  of  England  for  many  centuries.  The 
word  beetle  (=Amer.  bug)  goes  back  to  Old  English 
and  was  probably  used  in  its  loose  English  sense  in  very 
early  times.  It  is  vastly  older  than  bag.  Biscuit 
(=  Amer.  cracker)  is  cited  for  the  year  1330.  Cracker 
is  very  modern.    Coverlet  is  given  the  date  of  1300; 


LANGUAGE  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  421 


bedspread  is  not  even  mentioned  in  the  New  English 
Dictionary.  Autumn  is  cited  from  Chaucer  and  its 
pedigree  is  certainly  longer  than  that  of  our  word  fall. 
The  English  sense  for  creek  is  the  original  sense.  The 
same  can  be  said  for  casket  and  squash.  The  English 
words  hustings,  luggage,  copse,  cony,  close,  goloshes  are 
all  more  or  less  venerable,  and  there  are  many  other 
Briticisms  equally  so.  The  authors  of  Words  and  their 
Ways  in  English  Speech,  after  showing  how  in  Great 
Britain  railroading  has  merely  taken  to  itself  the  terms 
for  coaching — utilizing  in  this  way  such  words  as 
■coaches,  drivers,  guards,  and  booking-offices, — state  as  a 
generalization:  "The  conservative  tendency  to  retain 
familiar  terms  in  a  new  application  is  probably  stronger 
in  England  than  in  America. ' ' 

In  the  domain  of  pronunciation  we  probably  find 
ourselves  on  rather  uncertain  ground,  owing  to  the 
extreme  difficulty  of  determining  for  past  ages  precisely 
what  were  the  usual  pronunciations  for  the  various 
sounds.  We  ought  not  to  permit  ourselves  to  make 
more  sweeping  generalizations  for  past  ages,  about 
which  we  can  know  but  little,  than  we  should  be 
willing  to  make  for  today,  and  yet  that  is  ever  the 
temptation.  We  somehow  feel  that  all  people  in  the 
past  spoke  alike.  Professor  Grandgent,  in  his  article 
From  Franklin  to  Lowell,1  surely  observes  due  caution, 
.and  he  would  seem  to  show  that  American  English  has 
made  many  changes,  and  that  at  least  in  some  respects 
our  language  has  changed  wherein  English  speech  has 
remained  as  it  was.  Compare  the  American  loss  of 
rounding  for  d  and  o.  We  should  further  remember 
that  there  is  no  one  standard  for  our  whole  country.  If 
one  section  has  been  entirely  conservative,  other  sections 


1 — P.  M.  L.  A.  of  A.,  Vol.  XIV,  pp.  207  ffM  1899, 


422 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


must  have  changed.  In  the  "West  perhaps  our  r  and  our 
cb  (in  such  words  as  aunt)  are  archaic,  but  surely  it 
cannot  be  maintained  that  we  in  the  West  speak  more 
nearly  eighteenth-century  English  than  the  people  in 
the  East. 

Furthermore,  if  we  to-day  have  no  one  standard,, 
neither  had  the  people  of  England  in  the  seventeenth 
and  eighteenth  centuries.  America  has  not  been  settled 
by  Londoners,  and  to  set  up  this  city  as  a  standard  for 
comparison  is  manifestly  absurd,  especially  when  one 
considers  the  speech  conditions  of  London  for  the  past 
two  or  three  centuries.  I  think  few  scholars  realize  how 
extraordinary  these  conditions  have  been.  Since  the 
year  1600  London  has  increased  in  population  over 
twenty-five  fold.  Up  to  the  nineteen  century  all  of  this 
increase  came  from  without.  Let  me  present  some  figures. 
According  to  the  Britannica,  in  1600  the  population  was 
about  180,000;  in  1650,  350,000;  and  in  1700,  550,000. 
That  is,  roughly,  during  the  seventeenth  century  the  city 
increased  its  size  threefold.  But  all  through  this  cen- 
tury— largely  because  of  the  plague — the  death-rate  was. 
tremendously  in  excess  of  the  birth-rate.  For  example, 
in  1603  there  were  37,253  more  deaths  than  births;  in 
1625  the  excess  was  47,482 ;  in  1665  the  number  reached 
87,339.  In  the  last  year  quoted,  for  every  birth  there 
were  more  than  nine  people  who  died.  That  means  that 
London  in  that  year  in  order  to  hold  its  own  had  to 
have  eight  times  as  many  immigrants  as  there  were 
children  born.  For  the  other  years  quoted  the  ratio  is 
equally  startling.  But  we  have  found  that  instead  of 
merely  holding  its  own  London  grew  immensely.  With 
such  an  influx  of  dialect  speakers,  why  should  we  expect 
much  conservatism !  In  the  present  century  the  birth- 
rate has  exceeded  the  death-rate,  but  even  now  almost 


LANGUAGE  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  423 


half  of  the  population  of  London  was  born  outside  the 
city. 

If  we  compare  with  these  statistics  the  conditions  in 
America  we  may  find  even  more  cause  for  surprise.  Ac- 
cording to  the  statistics  published  in  the  World's 
Almanac  for  1906,  the  population  of  this  country  in 
1900  was  76,303,387.  Of  this  number  only  10,460,085 
were  of  foreign  birth,  and  only  26,198,939  of  foreign 
parentage.  That  is,  less  than  one-seventh  of  our  present 
population  were  born  outside  of  this  country  and  hardly 
more  than  a  third  have  parents  of  foreign  birth.  With 
such  figures  I  think  it  can  be  said  without  making  a  bull 
that  London  is  more  of  an  English  colony  than  the 
United  States.  And  surely  we  find  here  plenty  of  rea- 
son why  London  English  should  have  changed. 

But  now  returning  again  to  the  subject  of  speech  in 
America,  I  think  it  has  not  been  and  cannot  be  proved 
that  cultivated  Americans  speak  a  more  archaic  English 
than  the  people  of  Great  Britain.  Ellis  is  wrong  on  that 
point.  I  think  the  truth  lies,  rather,  in  the  proposition 
suggested  early  in  this  discussion,  that  each  country  pre- 
sents both  archaisms  and  innovations.  But  while  stand- 
ing for  this  position,  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  grant  that 
we  may  have  dialects  in  this  country  which  are  more  con- 
servative and  archaic  than  London  English.  Thus  it 
seems  probable  that  Professor  Emerson  has  proved  the 
fact  for  the  Ithaca  dialect,  though  I  am  of  the  opinion 
that  many  of  the  clipped  forms  found  in  that  speech  are 
not  archaisms  but  American  degenerates.  But  grant  the 
language  of  Ithaca  is  more  conservative  than  London 
English — what  of  it?  Is  it  quite  fair  to  compare  on  this 
score  Ithaca1  and  the  city  of  London?  I  think  it  would 
have  been  better  to  compare  Ithaca  with  some  isolated 


I — The  dialect  studied  seems  to  be  country  as  well  as  town. 


124 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


town  in  Lincolnshire  or  East  Anglia.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
after  reading  Professor  Emerson's  account  of  the  con- 
ditions there,  I  see  no  cause  for  wonder  at  any  of  the 
conservatism  found  in  Ithaca.  I  should  have  been 
much  more  surprised  if  the  speech  of  the  town  had  not 
been  conservative. 

Summing  up  now  the  results  of  this  examination,  I 
can  say :  Colonial  languages,  like  all  dialects,  exhibit  both 
conservative  and  innovative  traits.  Conservatism,  how- 
ever, is  not  so  pronounced  a  feature  as  many  people 
believe.  Some  colonial  dialects  may  be  more  conserva- 
tive than  their  mother-tongues,  but  wherever  this  hap- 
pens, in  so  far  as  I  know,  local  conditions  seem  to  be 
amply  sufficient  to  explain  the  conservatism.  In  no 
case  have  I  found  the  least  probability  that  emigration 
in  itself  is  a  conservative  force. 


BEOWULF,  62 


HE  confused  passage  in  Beowulf  centering  in 


1.  62  has  given  rise  to  two  classes  of  emenda- 


1  tions.  The  first  rests  on  the  supposition  that 
there  is  a  mistake  in  the  word  elan;  the  second 
supposes  that  there  is  an  omission  after  cwen.  I  wish 
to  show  that  it  is  the  second  class  of  emendation 
that  is  in  the  right.  The  lines  just  preceding 
the  confused  place  tell  us  that  Healfdene  had  four 
children.  The  names  of  the  three  sons  are  given  as 
assured  fact  and  present  no  difficulty,  but  the  passage 
dealing  with  the  fourth  child  is  confused,  and  the  com- 
poser by  his  method  of  statement  gives  some  ground 
for  the  belief  that  the  confusion  may  be  partly  due  to 
his  own  uncertainty  of  information.  Hyrde  ic,  is  the 
way  he  begins  the  confused  passage, — 

p[ce]  elan  cwen  heafto-scilfingas  heals-gebedda 
The  confusion  in  this  clause  may  be  partly  due  to 
uncertainty  of  information,  but  surely  that  is  not  the 
only  cause  for  the  trouble.  The  passage  not  only  seems 
lacking  in  at  least  one  proper  name,  but  it  also  has  no 
verb,  and  it  contains  a  probable  genitive  ending  in  as. 
How  are  we  to  deal  with  it?  Ettmiiller  and  others 
believe  that  Elan  is  the  name  of  the  daughter  of  Healf- 
dene, and  they  better  the  passage  by  supplying  a  verb 
and  the  conjectured  name  of  the  husband  after  civ  en. 
This  is  the  simplest  solution,  and  I  believe  it  is  the 
correct  one.  But  others,  such  as  Grundtvig,  Bugge, 
and  Kluge,  believe  that  elan  is  the  genitive  ending  in 
the  name  of  the  husband,  whose  name  they  reconstruct, 
and  then  supply  a  verb  and  a  conjectured  name  for 
the  wife.     The  later  emendators  say  that  elan  can 


425 


426 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


hardly  be  a  proper  name,  since  it  does  not  occur  else- 
where in  Old  English.  The  name,  however,  according 
to  Heine,  is  found  in  Old  High  German,  and  in  any  case 
such  an  objection  loses  most  of  its  weight  when  we 
recollect  that  all  we  know  about  the  name  of  Beowulf 
is  to  be  found  in  the  manuscript  under  discussion. 

But  now  there  is  another  interesting  point  to  con- 
sider. The  word  heafto  is  written  over  an  erasure. 
Zupitza,  in  his  autotype  edition,  does  not  mention  it, 
but  there  can  be  little  doubt  of  the  fact.  What  I  say 
I  base  on  a  study  of  two  copies  of  the  facsimile.  The 
raggedness  of  the  letters  in  heafto  and,  better  yet,  the 
remains  of  some  of  the  letters  of  the  earlier  word,  are 
strong  enough  evidence  to  support  my  assertion.  The 
word  swen  is  near  the  edge  of  the  manuscript,  and  not 
much  can  be  stated  about  it  from  a  study  of  the  fac- 
simile, but  elan  is  farther  in  and  is  perfectly  distinct 
and  shows  not  the  slightest  trace  of  any  erasure.  The 
bearing  of  this  upon  the  work  of  emendation  ought  to 
be  evident.  It  shows  that,  whatever  may  have  been  the 
remote  cause  for  the  confusion  in  this  passage,  the  im- 
mediate cause  centers  in  this  erasure  in  the  manuscript. 
The  scribal  mistake  was  not  in  the  letters  elan,  but 
farther  on  in  the  word  after  ctven.  It  is  impossible 
from  the  facsimile  to  make  out  with  certainty  any  of 
the  letters  underneath,  heafto,  unless  perchance  it  is  an  5 
apparently  at  the  end  of  the  erased  word.  This  s  tends 
to  show  that  the  word  erased  was  a  genitive,  but,  inas- 
much as  the  word  must  have  been  wrong  to  be  erased, 
it  will  not  help  much  in  the  emendation  to  determine  it 
more  definitely.  It  is,  then,  in  the  place  after  civen 
that  all  emendations  must  be  made  if  they  are  really  to 
better  the  passage.  This  conclusion  throws  out  of  con- 
sideration one  of  the  two  classes  of  emendations  men- 
tioned above. 


BEOWULF,  62,  AGAIN 

IT  is  perhaps  rather  late  in  the  day  to  object  to 
the  conclusions'  of  Professor  Klaeber  in  his  notes1 
on  1.  62  of  Beowulf,  but  I  have  only  kept  silent 
because  I  had  other  important  things  on  hand. 
I  think  that  Professor  Klaeber,  unintentionally,  has 
somewhat  misrepresented  matters ;  and  if  I  may  be  par- 
doned for  adding  a  few  more  straws  to  the  already 
heavy  burden  of  this  poor  line,  I  should  like  to  make 
the  attempt  to  straighten  some  things  out.  It  may  be 
that  one  or  two  of  my  additions  may  have  a  more 
general  interest  than  my  title  would  seem  to  promise. 

I  hope  that  Professor  Klaeber  will  not  take  offense 
if  I  suggest  that  he  has  been  at  times  a  trifle  overcon- 
fident: perhaps  in  my  first  note2  on  this  line  I  was,  in 
the  same  way,  a  little  at  fault, — however,  I  think  he 
has  sinned  more  than  I.  The  points  at  issue  are:  the 
facts  concerning  the  erasure  in  this  line,  the  meaning 
of  them,  and  the  part  played  by  hyrde  ic  in  Old  Eng- 
lish literature. 

Professor  Klaeber  agrees  with  me  that  there  is  an 
erasure  after  cwen,  but  according  to  him  we  are  not 
to  draw  any  conclusions  from  it.  ' '  The  scribe  had  made 
a  mistake,  which  he  corrected.  [ !]  That  is  all  the 
erasure  tells  us.  Whether  that  unlucky  scribal  blunder 
which  has  caused  so  much  headache  to  modern  scholars, 
occurred  before  or  after  elan  cwen,  cannot  be  learned 
from  it.  Nor  do  we  know  whether  the  (first)  scribe  of 
our  Beowulf  copy  actually  committed  or  merely  trans- 
mitted it.    Besides,  can  we  really  be  sure  that  what  he 

1 —  Modern  Language  Notes,  XX,  p.  11;  Modern  Philology,  III, 
p.  243. 

2 —  Modern  Language  Notes,  XIX,  121. 


427 


428 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


erased  was  not  simply  a  blot  of  ink?"  He  also  says 
that  no  letter  underneath  lieafto  can  be  made  out  with 
certainty;  and  to  my  suggestion  that  hyrde  ic  possibly 
implies  uncertainty  of  information  on  the  composer's 
part,  he  Returns  a  very  decided  and,  I  think,  dogmatic 
negative  answer.  His  only  justification  is  the  two-edged 
remark  that  "The  stylistic  and  metrical  functions  of 
hyrde  ic  are  clearly  seen  in  line  2163,"  and  he  quotes 
the  line.  So  much  appears  in  his  article  in  Modern 
Language  Notes,  XX,  p.  11.  In  Modern  Philology,  III, 
pp.  243  f.,  he  again  takes  up  hyrde  ic  and  treats  it  as  a 
gefraegn  formula.  He  says:  "Now  the  phrase  hyrde 
ic  serves  here  (Beo.  62)  practically  as  poetic  formula  of 
transition  equal  to  'further,'  exactly  as  in  line  2163, 
where  the  account  of  the  presentation  of  the  four  gifts 
is  connected  in  the  same  way  with  [its  continuation, 
that  is]  the  report  of  the  donation  of  the  horses."  .  . 
He  then  quotes  the  line,  refers  the  reader  to  his  note  in 
Modern  Language  Notes,  and  adds  another  reference,  to 
line  2172. 

This  summer  in  the  British  Museum  I  took  occasion 
to  examine  carefully  this  page  of  the  Beowulf  MS.  I 
found  there  what  my  previous  study  of  several  copies 
of  the  facsimile  had  shown  me,  namely,  that  there  has 
been  an  erasure,  that  it  was  the  erasure  of  a  word,  and 
that  there  are  the  indisputable  remains  of  an  s  just  after 
the  o  of  hea$u.  But,  I  think  it  especially  noteworthy 
that  all  copies  of  the  facsimile  are  not  equally  efficient 
in  what  they  disclose  of  the  MS.  If  one  takes  two  copies 
and  compares  them  page  for  page  he  will  find  con- 
siderable variation  in  the  plainness  of  the  readings. 
The  s  just  mentioned  can  be  seen  in  the  MS.  itself.  Both  I 
and  the  attendant  in  the  Manuscript  work-room  identi- 
fied it.    It  can  generally  be  seen  in  copies  of  the  fac- 


BEOWULF,  62,  AGAIN 


429 


simile,  and  1  think  there  are  some  specimens  that  show 
it  even  plainer  than  the  original  MS.  But  this  variation 
is  to  me  noteworthy.  It  seems  rather  remarkable  that 
the  mere  difference  in  the  strength  of  an  impression 
can  bring  so  much  more  out  in  one  copy  than  in  another. 
It  suggests  that  by  proper  manipulation  a  MS.  photo- 
graph may  be  made  to  give  plainer  readings  than  its 
original.  Also,  the  fact  that  Zupitza  has  not  mentioned 
this  particular  erasure  in  his  edition  suggests  that  it 
is  a  pity  that  he  has  not  edited  the  autotype  more  thor- 
oughly. It  has  been  pointed  out  to  me  that  there  are 
several  other  erasures  and  suspicious  places  that  he  has 
said  nothing  about. 

But  to  return  now  more  narrowly  to  our  subject, 
Professor  Klaeber  says  that  "the  phrase  hyrde  ic  cer- 
tainly does  not  point  to  the  composer's  uncertainty  of 
information.''  His  only  proof  is  an  assertion  about  line 
2163,  which  he  later  strengthens  by  adding  line  2172. 
He  also  puts  in  a  counter  claim,  so  to  speak,  by  bringing 
forward  Schucking's  suggestion  that  hyrde  ic  serves 
here  practically  as  a  poetic  formula  of  transition.  ' '  The 
question,"  he  says,  "is  not  what  modern  logic  expects, 
or  subjective  criticism  declares  possible  or  impossible, 
but  whether  such  an  expression  accords  with  the  prac- 
tice, not  to  say  the  laws,  of  the  old  style."  I  agree  with 
Professor  Klaeber.  This  is  very  good  doctrine,  quite 
worthy  of  being  followed.  In  point  of  fact,  the  terms 
poetic  formula  and  epic  formula,  as  I  myself  am  pre- 
pared to  prove,  are  used  so  loosely  that  they  are  practi- 
cally meaningless.  They  class  together  locutions  of 
quite  different  character;  the  locutions  often  mean  what 
they  literally  say ;  and  sometimes  these  terms  are  applied 
to  expressions  that  are  not  even  stereotyped.  Now,  what 
are  the  facts  concerning  hyrde  icf    It  occurs  but  three 


430 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


times  in  all  Old  English  poetry,  always  in  Beowulf. 
Schucking  has  tried  to  obtain  a  fourth  or  at  least  an- 
alogous case  in  the  hyrde  we  passage  in  the  Fates  of  the 
Apostles,  line  70,  but  I  think  with  no  success.  Such, 
then,  is  the  extent  of  the  practice  mentioned  by  Professor 
Klaeber.  Now,  what  are  the  metrical  and  stylistic 
functions  of  the  phrase  ?  First,  in  all  three  cases,  hyrde 
ic  introduces  a  passage  metrically  independent  of  the 
rest  of  the  poem.  In  at  least  two  of  these  cases  the 
material  is  also  logically  independent.  Let  us  consider 
lines  2163  and  2172 :  they  are  close  neighbors  and  should 
be  treated  together.  Their  sections  follow  immediately 
in  succession  upon  a  long  speech  by  Beowrulf  in  which 
that  hero  tells  of  his  experiences  in  the  land  of  HroSgar, 
and  he  closes  by  offering  to  Hygelac  the  treasure  he  has 
received  from  the  son  of  Healfdene.  Several  presents 
are  mentioned  specifically.  "Bruc  ealles  well!"  Then 
follows  :  Hyrde  ic  post  pam  froetwum  feower  mearas  .  . 
last  weardode  .  .  .  that  is,  another  present  is  mentioned 
that  the  author  or  scribe  has  heard  that  Beowulf  gave 
to  his  lord.  ' 1  Thus  should  a  kinsman  do, ' '  is  the  comment. 
Then  he  adds  a  second  hyrde  ic  clause,  introducing  still 
other  presents :  Hyrde  ic  Poet  he  pone  healsbeah  Hygde 
gesealde.  Now,  either  or  both  of  these  passages  could 
easily  have  been  added  by  any  scribe.  Much  the  same, 
also,  can  be  said  for  line  62.  The  material  is  inde- 
pendent metrically  and  could  have  been  added  by  any 
copyist.  Suppose  that  a  previous  scribe  had  acciden- 
tally left  out  a  line  or  two  describing  the  fourth  child  of 
Healfdene,  then  it  would  not  be  at  all  unlikely  that  our 
copyist,  noticing  the  omission,  would  try  to  supply  the 
defect  on  the  basis  of  his  own  probably  uncertain  in- 
formation. Nor  would  it  be  strange  if  he  became  con- 
fused in  the  process.  I  say  all  this  is  possible,  and  that 
is  all  that  I  have  claimed  for  it  at  any  time. 


BEOWULF,  62,  AGAIN 


431 


Let  us  now  take  up  another  line  of  argument.  Pro- 
fessor Klaeber  says  with  reference  to  the  erasure,  that 
it  tells  us  that  the  scribe  had  made  a  mistake  which  he 
corrected.  Now,  surely  Professor  Klaeber  cannot  have 
meant  this  to  be  taken  literally,  for  if  the  scribe 
had  corrected  his  mistake,  there  would  have  been  none 
of  the  "headache"  referred  to.  But  that  is  just  the 
point:  the  mistake  was  not  corrected.  After  the  word 
cwen  everything  is  peculiar.  There  is  an  erasure,  a 
genitive  ending  in  as,  and  a  feminine  nominative  singular 
ending  in  a, — not  to  mention  logical  and  metrical  diffi- 
culties. Before  elan  cwen  there  is  not  the  slightest  in- 
ternal or  direct  evidence  to  show  that  there  is  any  error. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  MS.  testimony  is  thus  fairly  con- 
clusive. Now,  if  we  should  accept  Professor  Klaeber 's 
suggestion  that  what  the  scribe  erased  was  a  blot  of  ink, 
the  MS.  testimony  is  strong  enough  to  be  considered  proof, 
because  the  scribe  has  shown  by  erasing  just  a  mere  blot 
that  he  at  least  thought  there  was  no  mistake  before  the 
-  blot. 

Finally,  if  one  does  not  wish  to  consider  elan  a 
woman's  name,  there  is  still  another  way  of  construing 
it,  as  Professor  Schofield  has  suggested  to  me  (it  is  also 
noted  in  Grein's  Sprachschatz) .  It  is  entirely  possible 
to  take  elan  as  the  genitive  of  Ela,  making  this  the  name 
of  the  husband,  and  supplying  after  cwen  the  name  of 
the  wife  and  the  verb  waes.  The  reconstructed  line 
would  be  type  E.  Consequently,  from  either  point  of 
view,  it  is  not  at  all  necessary  to  make  an  emendation  at 
any  other  place  than  after  the  word  civen. 


DID  BOCCACCIO  SUGGEST  THE  CHARACTER  OP 
CHAUCER'S  KNIGHT ? 


TANZA  40  of  Book  VI  of  the  Teseide  reads  as 


' '  In  cotal  guisa  co  'suoi  rugginoso 
Deirarme  e  del  sudor  venne  in  Atene: 
E  benche  bel  non  paia,  valoroso 
Chiunque  il  vede  veramente  il  tene ; 
E  f e del  modo  suo  non  borioso 
Ma  umile,  parlare  a  tutti  bene : 
Ben  s'ammiraron  della  condizione 
Chiunque  il  vide  a  si  fatto  barone. 1,1 

This  is  the  last  of  six  stanzas  describing  King  Evander, 
who  was  one  of  the  combatants  in  the  tournament.  The 
details  mentioned  in  this  stanza  are  so  similar  to  the 
most  prominent  characteristics  of  Chaucer's  knight,  as 
he  is  described  in  the  Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales 
(11.  43-78),  as  to  suggest  that  Chaucer  may  have  got  the 
first  conception  of  his  knight  from  this  source. 

Boccaccio,  in  the  previous  five  stanzas,  has  described 
a  Greek  warrior-king.  He  has  told  Evander's  birthplace 
and  parentage,  how  he  was  mounted  and  how  he  was 
armed.  He  has  described  his  dress  and  that  of  his  fol- 
lowers; and  he  has  devoted  especial  attention  to  a  de- 
scription of  Evander's  shield,  on  which  were  depicted 
scenes  illustrating  former  adventures  and  experiences. 

There  is  nothing  in  these  stanzas  that  is  exactly  th3 
same  as  in  Chaucer's  Prologue.  There  are  some  corre- 
spondences, but  these  might  easily  be  accidental, — thus : 

1 — "In  this  way,  with  his  followers,  he  came  into  Athens,  be- 
grimed from  his  arms  and  from  sweat.  Although  he  did  not  look 
beautiful,  whoever  sees  him  holds  him  truly  valorous.  He  was  not 
haughty  in  manner,  but  humble :  he  spoke  well  to  all.  Whoever  saw 
him  marveled  at  this  in  such  a  baron. " 


follows  : 


432 


BOCCACCIO  AND  CHAUCER'S  KNIGHT  433 


(a)  both  are  distinguished  warriors.  (&)  Each  has  fol- 
lowers with  him.  (c)  The  previous  deeds  of  valor  are 
told  for  each,  though  in  different  ways — for  Evander,  it 
is  done  by  a  description  of  his  shield ;  for  the  knight,  the 
means  is  direct  narration.  But  if  Chaucer  was  in- 
fluenced by  this  description  of  Evander,  he  could  not 
possibly  have  made  use  of  the  details  found  in  these  five 
stanzas, — because  the  settings  are  too  different.  Boc- 
caccio had  described  a  Greek  king  going  to  a  tourna- 
ment, while  Chaucer  wished  to  present  an  ideal  English 
knight  riding  in  a  company  of  pilgrims. 

But  the  stanza  first  quoted  seems  to  bear  toward 
Chaucer  a  different  relation  from  the  other  five.  There 
are  the  following  agreements : 

Evander  came  into  Athens  begrimed  from  his  arms 
and  from  sweat. 

The  knight  joined  the  pilgrims  with  his  clothes 
stained  by  his  armor. 

Evander,  though  he  did  not  look  beautiful,  was  held 
to  be  valorous  by  all. 

The  knight  was  not  gay,  but  he  was  worthy  and  wise. 

Evander  was  not  proud  in  manner,  but  humble;  he 
spoke  well  to  all. 

The  knight  was  in  bearing  as  meek  as  a  maid;  he 
never  said  anything  discourteous  to  his  inferiors. 

It  hardly  seems  to  me  that  these  agreements  can  be 
explained  as  due  to  mere  chance.  What  all  found 
striking  in  King  Evander,  we  find  striking  in  Chaucer's 
knight — that  such  a  distinguished  warrior  should  be  so 
humble  and  courteous  in  bearing  toward  those  of  lesser 
rank.  Chaucer  knew  the  Teseide,  having  early  made 
some  sort  of  translation  or  paraphrase  of  it  in  his  last 
work,  Palamon  and  Arcite.  He  must,  therefore,  have 
been  familiar  with  this  description  long  before  he  con- 


434 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


ceived  of  the  Canterbury  Tales.  The  Knight's  Tale  is 
itself  the  story  of  the  Teseide.  The  character  of  the 
knight  had  to  harmonize  with  the  story  he  was  to  tell. 
There  is,  therefore,  a  close  relationship  between  the 
two,  and  one  might  suggest  the  other.  If  then  the 
Teseide  has  within  itself  an  unneeded  character  suitable 
to  act  as  narrator  of  the  story  to  the  Canterbury  pil- 
grims, what  is  more  natural  than  to  suppose  that 
Chaucer  might  have  taken  the  essential  traits  of  this 
personage  as  the  nucleus  around  which  to  build  up  his 
own  character  of  the  knight? 


THE  BOLD  PRISONER. 

(Archie  o  Cawfieid.) 

THE  following  ballad,  a  version  of  Archie  o  Caw- 
field,  Child,  No.  188,  forms  the  first  column  of  a 
broadside  printed  by  Pitts,  probably  in  1804-5. 
The  date,  my  friend  Professor  Becker  thinks,  is  fairly 
sure  from  a  song  printed  on  the  same  sheet  as  a  second 
column.    This  song,  The  Land  we  Live  in,  begins : 

Since  our  foes  to  invade  us  have  long  been  preparing, 
'Tis  clear  they  consider  we've  something  worth  sharing. 

And  for  that  mean  to  visit  our  shore; 
It  behoves  us  with  spirit  to  meet  'em, 
And  tho  'twill  be  nothing  uncommon  to  beat  'em, 

We  must  try  how  they'll  take  it  once  more. 

The  first  three  lines  of  the  second  stanza  read: 

Here's  a  health  to  the  tars  on  the  wide  ocean  ging  (sic), 
Perhaps  even  now  some  broadsides  are  exchanging, 
We'll  on  shipboard  and  join  in  the  fights. 

This  doggerel  is  so  limited  as  to- occasion  that  it  hardly 
seems  probable  that  it  would  continue  to  be  printed  long 
after  the  specific  scare  was  over.  Each  column  of  the 
broadside  has  its  own  woodcut,  each  much  worn.  That 
for  The  Bold  Prisoner  is  a  picture  of  a  man  carrying  a 
basket.  It  is  framed  in  a  double-lined  circle  an  inch  and 
a  half  in  diameter. 

This  broadside  is  at  present  in  my  possession;  I  ob- 
tained it  last  summer  in  London  with  several  others.  I 
did  not  suppose  that  any  were  of  value,  and  gave  the  lot 
no  particular  attention.  It  was  not  much  over  a  month 
ago  that  I  first  read  this  specimen  and  perceived  it  as 
traditional.  I  sent  a  copy  to  Professor  Kittredge,  who 
of  course  recognized  it  as  a  version  of  Archie  o  Cawfieid. 


435 


436  ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


My  broadside  is  most  like  Professor  Child's  version  F, 
III,  494.  My  copy  is  much  shorter,  but  this  may  be  due 
to  the  stall  trick  of  cutting  a  ballad  to  fit  the  column. 
There  are  no  identical  stanzas,  though  four  are  very 
similar,  and  it  is  to  be  further  noted  that  the  title  of  F, 
as  given  by  Mr.  Watson,  is  Bold  Dickie,  Child,  III,  495 
E  (—  F).  Nevertheless  the  treatment,  it  seems  to  me,  is 
independent  enough  in  F  and  in  the  following  copy  to 
permit  one's  considering  them  independent  versions. 

The  Bold  Prisoner.1 

Pitts,  Printer,  Wholesale  Toy  and  Marble  warehouse,  6, 
Great  St.  Andrew  street,  7  dials. 

As  I  was  walking  for  my  recreation, 

Across  the  green  meadows  one  morning  in  May 
There  I  heard  two  brothers  a  talking 

And  I  listened  awhile  to  what  they  did  say. 

Says  one  to  the  other,  'I  have  got  a  brother, 

In  prison  so  strong  confined  is  he ; 
But  if  I  had  forty  brave  fellows  like  myself, 

We  soon  would  set  the  bold  prisoner  free. 

'Ten  of  them  should  hold  our  horses  head, 

Ten  at  the  prison  door  should  be, 
And  ten  should  guard  the  prison  all  round, 

While  the  rest  should  set  the  bold  prisoner  free.' 

Dicky  broke  locks,  and  Dicky  broke  bolts, 
And  Dicky  made  all  before  him  to  flee, 

And  Dicky  took  Arthur  all  up  in  his  arms 
And  carried  him  off  most  manfully. 


1 — Tn  the  broadside,  quotation  marks  are  lacking  and  the 
punctuation  is  very  faulty.  Otherwise  no  changes  have  been 
made. 


THE  BOLD  PRISONER 


437 


Dickey  looked  over  his  left  shoulder, — 

'  You  little  do  think  what  I  do  see ; 
Here  comes  the  bold  sheriff  of  bonny  down  dale 

And  a  hundred  bold  traps  in  company. ' 

'0  stop,  0  stop/  the  sheriff  he  cries, 

'  0  stop,  0  stop,  whosoever  you  be ; 
Only  give  us  the  irons  from  off  his  legs, 

And  you  may  have  the  bold  prisoner  free. ' 

1 0  no,  0  no,  you  are  vastly  mistaken, 

0  no,  O  no,  that  never  can  be: 
The  irons  will  serve  to  shoe  our  horses, 

For  we  have  a  farrier  in  our  company. 

'0  I  will  leave  houses  and  I  will  leave  lands, 

1  will  leave  wives  and  children  three; 

But  before  I'd  leave  my  own  dearest  brother, 
I  sooner  would  die  under  yonder  green  tree.' 

To  dancing,  to  dancing  they  went, 
To  dancing  they  went  most  merrily:  \ 

'Twas  the  very  best  dance  that  ever  they  had, 
Because  they  had  set  the  bold  prisoner  free. 


RESEARCHES  IN  EXPERIMENTAL  PHONETICS 


(Studies  from  the  Yale  Psychological  Laboratory.  Edited  by 
Edward  W.  Scripture,  Director  of  the  Psychological  Laboratory. 
Vol.  VII.  New  Haven,  1899,  pp.  108.  Eeview  by  Frank  Egbert 
Bryant,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.,  1901.) 


HE  volume  contains  two  articles :  ' '  Researches  in 


Experimental  Phonetics"  and  " Observations  on 


A  Rhythmic  Action,"  both  by  Dr.  Scripture.  This 
review  will  concern  itself  only  with  the  first  article. 

The  "Researches  in  Experimental  Phonetics"  deserves 
the  careful  consideration  of  phoneticians.  Dr.  Scrip- 
ture is  a  laboratory  man,  and  he  uses  laboratory  meth- 
ods in  his  researches.  Though  his  regular  line  of  work 
is  psychology,  this  article  is  devoted  exclusively  to 
phonetics  and  prosody.  He  has  devised  a  clever  ma- 
chine that  greatly  enlarges  the  records  on  gramophone 
plates,  and  it  is  these  records  that  he  uses  in  his  experi- 
ments. The  researches  "were  begun  in  order  to  settle 
the  controversy  in  regard  to  the  quantitative  character 
of  English  verse,"  but,  in  reality,  the  greater  part  of 
the  article  is  taken  up  with  a  study  of  the  nature  of 
some  of  the  speech-sounds — particularly  the  diphthong 
ai  in  I,  eye,  fly,  die,  and  thy.  We  are  told  that  this  is 
but  a  first  report,  and  that  there  are  other  researches 
in  progress  that  cover  a  much  broader  field. 

Dr.  Scripture  is  not  the  first  to  study  gramophone 
and  phonograph  records,  as  he  himself  shows  in  his 
introduction,  but  his  methods  are  so  simple  and  he 
introduces  them  with  such  vigor  that  they  are  likely  to 
be  employed  by  others.    If  these  methods  prove  to  give 


438 


EXPERIMENTAL  PHONETICS  439 


accurate  results,  Dr.  Scripture's  work  will  have  been, 
directly  or  indirectly,  of  great  service  in  phonetics, 
prosody,  and  kindred  subjects.  It  is  for  this  reason 
that  the  fundamental  presupposition  underlying  his 
methods  should  be  investigated  with  extreme  care.  It 
would  almost  appear  that  it  has  not  occurred  to  Dr. 
Scripture  that  gramophone  records  may  be  inaccurate. 
For  him  the  only  difficulty  seems  to  lie  in  the  interpret- 
ing the  record.  But  the  question  may  justly  be  asked: 
Can  the  gramophone  records  be  absolutely  relied  upon? 
And  this  needs  more  than  a  cursory  answer. 

I  have  listened  to  several  phonographs,  grapho- 
phones,  and  gramophones,,  but  I  have  never  heard  one 
which  seemed  to  me  to  give  an  entirely  natural  repro- 
duction of  the  voice.  There  was  always  something 
lacking  or  out  of  proportion  in  the  representation. 
Phonograph  dealers  have  told  me  that  it  is  a  difficult 
task  to  get  even  the  best  records.  It  requires  expe- 
rience, and  even  then  it  is  almost  impossible  to  get  good 
records  for  some  people  and  for  some  musical  instru- 
ments. When  one  considers  the  make-up  of  the  ma- 
chine it  becomes  clear  that  there  are  many  possibilities 
for  inaccuracy.  For  instance,  there  are  the  various 
resonance  chambers,  there  is  the  vibration  rate  of  the 
glass  disk,  and  then  there  is  the  complicated  process  of 
making  a  plate.  All  these  things  make  it  possible  for 
error  to  creep  in.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  review 
to  condemn  graphic  methods,  but  to  call  the  attention 
of  experimenters  to  the  imperfectness  of  the  tool  they 
are  using,  and  to  the  need  of  thoroughly  testing  it.  One 
should  whisper  a  passage  to  the  machine,  and  see  how 
accurate  the  report  is.  A  long  series  of  tuning-forks 
could  be  tried  to  see  if  each  note  is  returned  with  equal 
accuracy.    One  could  take  a  trombone  and  blow  glides 


440 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


into  it.  And  such  questions  as  the  following  might  be 
asked :  Does  it  give  back  the  exact  relative  pitch  and 
the  exact  relative  intensity?  and,  Does  the  machine  give 
back  the  fundamentals  and  overtones  in  exactly  the 
right  proportions?  It  may  be  that  Dr.  Scripture's 
instruments  are  entirely  accurate,  but  there  are  several 
of  his  results  that  phoneticians  would  hardly  care  to 
accept  until  this  is  shown  to  be  so. 

Again,  in  order  to  be  sure  of  his  results.  Dr.  Scrip- 
ture should  make  his  own  records  and  not  have  to  rely 
on  purchased  ones.  In  beginning  the  study,  he  should 
use  only  one  subject,  whose  speech  habits  he  knows 
perfectly.  He  should  take  note  of  all  the  conditions 
under  which  each  record  is  made,  and  he  should  have 
many  records.  Dr.  Scripture  at  times  appears  to  be 
somewhat  rash  in  drawing  conclusions  from  insufficient 
material.  As  an  example  of  this  we  may  say  that 
from  the  record  of  h  in  who  he  generalizes  for  all  li's. 

We  may  now  consider  briefly  some  of  Dr.  Scripture 's 
particular  results.  After  an  excellent  introduction,  he 
begins  a  study  of  the  diphthong  ai  as  it  is  found  in  the 
nursery-rime  Cock  Robin  and  in  one  or  two  short  prose 
selections.  He  uses  the  National  Gramophone  Com- 
pany's records,  for  which  Mr.  W.  H.  Hooley,  an  elocu- 
tionist, is  the  speaker.  In  his  treatment  of  this  diph- 
thong he  brings  out  some  startling  results.  For  in- 
stance, instead  of  the  second  part  of  the  diphthong- 
being  the  weaker,  his  records  show  in  most  cases  that  it 
is  from  iy2  to  2%  times  that  of  the  a!  For  almost  all 
of  his  a's  there  seems  to  be  a  fixed  note  of  about  1,000. 
Louis  Bevier,  in  the  Physical  Review,  vol.  X,  p.  193, 
working  on  phonograph  records,  also  finds  a  similar 
note,  but  with  a  vibration-rate  quite  a  little  above  this. 
Whether  this  is  a  mouth  resonance  tone,  as  is  sug- 


EXPERIMENTAL  PHONETICS  441 


gested,  or  a  resonance  tone  due  to  the  machine,  can  be 
determined  only  by  careful  investigation. 

Dr.  Scripture  would  appear  to  go  too  far  in  some  of 
his  statements.  Thus,  he  concedes  that  eye  and  I  are 
different  fundamentally,  although  the  ear  cannot  dis- 
tinguish between  them  (p.  36).  He  says,  in  general, 
with  reference  to  ai,  that  "  ai  is  not  the  sum  of  the  two 
vowels  a  and  i,  but  an  organic  union  into  a  new  sound 
m.  Thus,  there  is  no  necessary  pause  or  sudden  change 
of  intensity  or  change  of  pitch  or  even  change  in  char- 
acter," (p.  53.)  This  is,  of  course,  true  so  far  as  a 
pause  is  concerned;  in  fact,  the  statement  might  be 
made  much  more  positive.  To  be  true  of  character, 
the  statement  can  be  made  only  with  emphasis  on  the 
word  ' '  sudden. ' ' 

In  the  course  of  his  paper,  Dr.  Scripture  treats 
briefly  the  subject  of  punctuation.  He  puts  a  period 
after  the  third  line  in  the  first  stanza  because  Mr. 
Hooley  in  his  one  reading  paused  there.  Later  (p.  36) 
he  gives  us  his  philosophy  of  the  subject.  He  implies 
that  there  is  still  an  accepted  theory  which  relates 
punctuation  and  time.  He  tells  us  that  possibly  "this 
theory  may  have  to  be  modified,  as  later  researches 
have  shown  that  comma  pauses  may  be  long  and  semi- 
colon and  colon  pauses  may  be  very  short."  He 
seems,  however,  still  inclined  to  hold  the  "accepted" 
theory. 

Dr.  Scripture  discusses  at  some  length  the  various 
vowel  theories.  He  favors  Willis's  theory  that  the 
mouth  tone  is  independent  of  the  cord  tone  in  regard 
to  pitch.  He  believes  that  he  has  shown  with  absolute 
certainty  that  this  must  be  so.  But  again  the  question 
arises:  Are  the  gramophone  results  absolutely  re- 
liable?   Rayleigh,  in  his  "Theory  of  Sound,"  vol.  II,  p. 


442 


ENGLISH  BALLADRY 


477,  says  that  from  graphic  records  the  fundamentals 
are  either  weak  or  lacking,  but  that  in  experiments 
with  resonators  they  are  found  to  be  most  important. 
This  is  a  divergence  well  worth  noting.  If  it  is  true 
that  phonographs  and  gramophones  slight  the  lower 
fundamentals,  we  cannot  feel  so  sure  of  Dr.  Scripture 's 
conclusions.  So  once  again  we  see  the  need  of  a 
thorough  investigation  of  the  reliability  of  the  machine. 

The  cut  on  page  59,  in  which  is  given  the  whole 
record  for  "Who'll  be  the  parson?"  presents  much  that 
is  interesting.  The  machine  gives  here  no  record  for 
p,  b,  th,  and  hardly  any  for  s.  This  seems  to  disclose 
a  serious  weakness  in  the  gramophone  as  a  scientific 
instrument. 

The  last  few  pages  of  the  article  are  devoted  to  the 
study  of  Cock  Robin  with  a  view  to  the  settlement  of 
the  controversy  in  regard  to  the  quantitative  char- 
acter of  English  verse.  To  Dr.  Scripture  the  task 
must  appear  an  easy  one,  if  such  a  little  nursery-rime 
can  settle  it.  Cock  Robin  is  not  a  fair  example  to 
stand  for  the  whole  of  English  verse.  It  belongs  to 
folk  poetry,  and  has  certain  peculiarities  of  its  own. 
But  the  whole  treatment  of  the  subject  shows  an  un- 
consciousness of  the  difficulty  of  the  problems  in- 
volved, and  a  lack  of  acquaintance  with  the  present 
views  of  verse  theorists. 

There  is  another  matter  that  the  reader's  attention 
should  be  called  to,  which  surprises  one  in  the  work 
of  a  laboratory  man.  I  refer  to  the  errors  to  be 
found  in  the  cuts  and  diagrams.  Fig.  5  does  not  agree 
with  fig.  7,  nor  with  its  own  description.  Not  only  in 
the  case  of  fig.  6  (acknowledged  by  Dr.  Scripture), 
but  also  in  that  of  fig.  18,  fig.  24,  fig.  29,  fig.  33,  fig. 
42,  etc.,  the  scale  reads  100,200,400,300,500.    .    .  . 


EXPERIMENTAL  PHONETICS  443 


Moreover,  much  of  the  actual  plotting  is  wrong.  In 
fig.  6  the  height  of  i  is  drawn  over  300.  It  should  be 
250.  Pig.  15  has  the  a  curve  up  to  4  and  then  down 
again.  It  should  be  constant  3.  But  on  page  49,  Dr. 
Scripture  says  that  fig.  15  is  carefully  plotted.  Further 
errors  will  be  found  in  fig.  28  and  fig.  32.  Errors  so 
serious  as  these  throw  over  the  work  as  a  whole  an 
uncomfortable  element  of  doubt. 


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Correggio's  Madonna  Delia  Scalla. 

It  is  indispensable  as  a  book  of  reference  for  the 
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